The March
by KhajiitWarriorSam
Summary: When I went to join the Imperial Legion I didn't know what to expect. Fame, glory, honor. I thought I would earn all of those from becoming a soldier and earning my way up in rank. I never though when I accepted the position of Legate Rikke's squire that I'd get something much better than gold or fame. Rikke x Female Dovahkiin and mature in later chapters.
1. The Imperial Legion

_Consider Fort Hraggstad as good as yours._ I remember saying those words to Legate Rikke with an air of arrogance. I thought the fort would simply have a small group of idiotic bandits I would have to slaughter. I've dealt with bandits a few times before, all of them were felled before they could even draw their weapons. I realize I'm wrong once the first arrow pierces my thin fur armor, I'm not even close to the fort when it happens. I can already tell these bandits are better trained than any I've dealt with before.

As I approach the entrance I hear the _snap _of no less than twenty bows being fired, no doubt in a curved arch towards me. In one fluid motion I dive beneath the stone archway and draw my hand-and-a-half sword from the leather scabbard on my waist. When the arrows hit the ground where I was I run from my cover and across the dirt yard, planing on running up the wooden stairs and clearing the stone walkways of outlaws.

I feel three more arrows hit their marks while I bolt towards the stairs, one in my thigh and two in my left shoulder. The wounds hurt but don't appear to be serious, so I push on and quickly climb the wooden stairs. Instantly three bandits surround me with their weapons draw, thankfully the archers are forced to stop for fear of hitting their allies. Two of them wear thin fur armor and carry iron weapons, their leader wears leather and has a steel dagger in each of his hands.

Before they can react I lunge for the rightmost bandit and drive my sword through his neck, the spray of blood splattering me and the brigand beside him. At once the leftmost enemy wildly swings his mace at my neck, I easily dodge the blow and grab onto the weapon. I rip it from his grasp and swing my sword for his chest, the fool is wearing fur armor that leaves his entire upper half exposed. Once the second one has fallen the archers begin firing again, although their aim has worsened now that I'm at a higher elevation.

While I pull my bastard sword from my foe's chest his companion attacks, swinging his left dagger at my belly and his right at my face. I lunge back too slow and get a scratch on my cheek and a wide gash in my armor, thankfully his dagger only left a small gash on my vulnerable belly. Screaming my rage I bring my weapon down on both of his shoulders, the cracks telling me their broken, and end his worthless life by smashing his skull in with the flat of my blade.

By now I've lost count of the arrows that have pierced my armor and flesh, although I see that a few of the bandits have run out of arrows and are making their way towards me. Without thinking I let out a scream like a madwoman and charge the group of bandits closest to me, instantly half of them howl in fear and slightly retreat. I slash wildly and leap back whenever one of them slashes. I repeat the process with any bandits I come across, their numbers swell as more pour out of the interior once they realize their under attack.

However, once I manage to kill their leader (a miracle if I'm being honest) a good handful of them loose heart and flee like terrified deer. The group that remain are already battered and wounded, I defeat them in less than five minutes. I can't help but smile as I look around the now abandoned fort, dirty and with bodies everywhere I pity the soldiers that are forced to clean the place up.

When the fighting started the sun was halfway across the sky and now the moon is high in the sky. As I make my way back to Solitude I activate my Night Eye and watch out for any stray bandits. Once I'm safely in the city I make my way over to a barrel and collapse on top of it as my wounds catch up with me.

My armor is in shreds and I have a wide variety of cuts, bruises, and a few broken fingers. I'm forced to walk past Castle Dour and make my way to the Temple of the Eight Divines and seek out a priestess. She doesn't even bother asking my name and goes straight to my wounds before I even ask. I resist the urge to fight her as she forces my broken fingers into place and mends them, once that's done I'm whole again and make my way back to Castle Dour.

"FINE! LEAVE! SEE IF I CARE!" I hear Rikke shout as a scrawny looking youth shoves past me and leaves the central headquarters of the Imperial Legion. Inside the counsel room I find a seething Legate and a frowning General, both of their attentions turn to me as I enter the room. "From the look of your gear I'd say Fort Hraggstad is ours." The General tells me. "Yes sir." I tell him while I eye the still seething Legate Rikke. "I'll send troops to garrison it right away. Rikke, find this woman a place in the Legion. Don't forget the oath." Tullius tells his second in command as he leaves to see to the fort.

"You've proven yourself by killing those bandits. Usually you'd have to start as a lowly Auxiliary and do menial task. Tend the horses, unpack the camp, sharpen weapons, fix armor, etc. And you'd earn the next rank by surviving five battles and not turning craven, the next rank ten battles and so on and so forth. However, I have another position in mind if you'll accept it." I think of how bored I'd be tending horses and ask, "What is it?" She tells me, "As you may have seen, my squire quit on me. He fathered a bastard with a whore and demanded he be allowed to bring the boy and woman with him. I don't need my squire distracted, and I don't need a whore around my men. They'd spend all their gold and time with her and never get any work done."

"A squire's purpose is to serve me as a sort of personal assistant and an ally in battles. Like an Auxiliary or Housecarl, only with a different purpose. A squire is meant to learn from me and improve faster than a regular solider, and eventually take my place if I should fall in battle or retire. If the war ends before you achieve my rank you'll be paid and treated like a Tribune, the rank below Legate. **However. **Should you prove yourself craven or unfit for my rank, I'll demote you to pack mule and make up carry my bags with no chance of promotion. Knowing these terms do you accept my position as squire?"

To me it sounds like an amazing offer, don't screw up and I can be a Legate or Tribune in less than a year. "I accept." I tell her. "Good now repeat after me,Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede II and unwavering obedience to the officers of his great Empire. May those above judge me, and those below take me, if I fail in my duties. Long live the Emperor! Long live the Empire!" I quickly repeat the oath back to her, grateful to now be part of the Imperial Legion.

"Now. I suppose you want to know where we're going to attack first and what you must do? Well, we're launching a march of two hundred soldiers to attack the Rift with me leading it. We'll laugh in three days, hence why my squire asked if he could bring his whore. As my squire I expect you to meet me at the gate in three days at ten sharp, with Legion armor on. Get your armor from the smith."

I almost leave then but I've no place to sleep, no food to eat, and hardly any gold. "L-Legate, if you don't mind me asking, where can I sleep and what should I do until the launch?" She gives a hearty laugh and answers, "The Winking Skeever is cheap and decent. Until the launch do what you please. Get some armor, find a new weapon, buy some sweats, drink, dance, buy a male whore for a night, get a steed. Couldn't matter less. Now, dismissed!"

I quickly make my way to the inn, buy a room, eat my fill, and collapse in bed. As I fall in unconsciousness I can't stop the excitement from boiling up inside me. I'm in the Legion! I'm a squire to one of the greatest Legates in history and can become one in less than a year! But as sleep consumes me I can't stop the tiny ounce of fear from appearing. I've just become a squire to one of the strictest, toughest, and smartest Legates in all of Skyrim.


	2. The Start

"P-Pardon me. I'm here to get my armor." I manage to squeak out as I look at the huge man before me. I expect him to snarl at me to go away or say he's too busy to fit me for armor. That's why I'm so surprised when he gives me a gentle smile and says, "Rikke told me she got a new squire. Good to see you found me all right, most of the new recruits have trouble. Step over here please, I need to measure you." Nodding, I step over to where he motions and stand stiff as a board.

As he measures me he fills me in on my armor, "Blacker than night, that's what Rikke said. Ebony wouldn't do since it's too heavy and reflects the light like a mirror. I got some obsidian from Red Mountain, but it's brittle and wouldn't offer protection in battle. However, if it's heated and stirred with certain metals it becomes as hard as Daedric Armor while weighing no more than leather. The trick is in the metals, most smiths use tin and copper to strengthen the obsidian. But the final production is heavy as glass and as bad as iron. I use gold and quicksilver, expensive but in my opinion it's worth it."

"It'll absorb the light and practically make you invisible in the night. Raise your arms." Instinctively I follow his command and think about what he just told me. "What will it look like?" I can't help but ask him. He smiles and tells me, "You've seen the Stormcloak general's armor, right? Looks just like a bear. Rikke thought her squire should look as fierce as possible, and making armor like your sigil isn't a bad idea. Your helm will be in the shape of a snarling wolf, it'll be attached to your cuirass and you'll be able to pull it down like a hood. The exterior will have a werewolf's head covering it so when you ride into battle it'll look like all you're wearing is the head of a slain werewolf."

"The cuirass and leggings are going to be solid with flexible metal around the joints to bend. The sigil of Solitude will be imprinted on the chest, although I doubt your opponents will be able to see it as you ride towards them. The leggings will have a pattern carved into them so it appears they're made from a pelt, simply to make a better appearance than plain black leggings. The boots will look like a wolf's hind paws, although they'll be just like regular boots. Finally, the gauntlets will be shaped like werewolf hands, claws and all. You'll even be able to use them in combat, if you should find yourself disarmed. Well, you're done. Come back tomorrow for your armor."

I quickly leave the smith to his work, not entirely sure what to do with myself. I take Legate Rikke's advice and look around for the whorehouse. I briefly worked as a sailor, and I've heard enough talk to know Solitude prostitutes are the best (and cheapest) in all of Skyrim. When I find it I'm surprised to see the building is mostly underground with only the entrance above ground. Shrugging, I make my way inside.

The building is freezing and the stone walls are wet with water, sewage, and who knows what else? When I make my way to the owner I quickly shoot down her offer of her finest males. She quickly scurries off to find a woman willing to service another woman. The group she brings out is pathetic, not a surprise. I quickly eliminate those who are too old, expensive, or inexperienced. The three that remain are horrible choices, even Ulfric Stormcloak wouldn't touch them. One of them isn't even half my age, one of them looks like a walking skeleton, and the other is older that my father's mother.

I leave disappointed and with a pocket full of gold, still not sure what to do with myself. I decide to simply explore the town. Surprisingly, the capital of Skyrim is boring and has nothing to entertain the passing traveler. I check in with the smith, craft some arrows, and go down to the docks to skip some rocks. It's only as the sun sets I begin heading back to the city, and get a pleasant surprise. I hear the whinny of a horse and follow it to find a small stable, with the owner out front. "Have any horses for cheap?" I ask as I examine their wide variety. The beast range from tiny ponies to giant warhorses to sleek horses used for racing one another.

"A few, how much ya wanna spend?" She asks me. "Five hundred is all I have on me, and I'd like some money for other expenses." She considers it for a moment before saying, "Got a scrawny horse worth two hundred. He was suppose to be a warhorse, apparently no one bother to tell him. He's small, thin, and spooks at any sound. He'd probably just be able to carry you, and even then he's still pathetic. Want to bother with him?" I consider the offer. No doubt Rikke will have a horse, the Legion can't spare a horse, and she'll expect me to keep up. He might not be much, but I'd rather not walk all the way to Riften. After handing over my money and tying my horse up outside the gate I make my way to the inn, ready for a few drinks.

* * *

I wake up the next afternoon with a dry mouth and small migraine, ignoring it I rush to the blacksmith. I can't help but admire his work, the armor is dark, sleek, and much too beautiful for me. I kindly thank the man and take the armor back to my room in the inn, making sure no one sees it or where I hide it in my room. By the time I get back outside it's turning to night and I decide to simply spend the night in the inn. Drinking, eating, and playing dice in the corner. Even though I'm full of energy I force myself to go to sleep early so I can meet Rikke on time in the morning.

* * *

I hop from one foot to the other as I wait for Legate Rikke at the gates of Solitude. I don't know what I expected her to bring with her, but it definitely wasn't twenty mean and women in chains. After she loads them into five wagons she turns to me and says, "The worst criminals from Castle Dour, probably the worse in Skyrim. Rapers, murderers, masters of thievery, assassins. You name it. They'll serve us as soldiers or as human shields on the front line. That bag of bones your horse?" When I nod she says, "The soldiers and wagons are waiting for us down by the river. This group of filth will catch up with us, now mount your horse and follow me."

I quickly do as I'm told and follow Legate Rikke, my horse fighting me all the while. When we finally reach the camp I sigh in relief, glad to be around so many trained warriors. When Rikke stops we're in front of the biggest tent in all of the camp. "Follow." She tells me. I tie up my panting horse by her beautiful warhorse and do as I'm commanded.

"We'll head out in an hour, to give stragglers and the wagons time to join us before we leave. Most of my belongings are in one of the wagons, you'll only carry the most important. Here." She hands me a large amount of gold, a flawless diamond, and a ruby ring. "I know how much gold's there, I'll count it every night when you return it. I find one cent missing and you'll be whipped in front of the rest of the camp, and we'll leave without you the next day. Understand?"After I nod my head she says, "Help me pack up before we leave." I quietly go to work, making sure not to get in Rikke's way.

* * *

When we stop for the night we've only traveled maybe two miles down the river, and our camp is stretched far along the bank. "Set up my tent, I wish to find that case of Spiced Wine I saw earlier." I easily put up her tent and silently wait inside, guarding her belongings from the rabble. I know any damage to her property while she's away will come out of my hide. "Are you Rikke's squire?" A runner ask me as he rest outside her shelter. When I nod my head he says, "She told me to tell you, 'You're free to wander around, just don't do anything stupid'."

Knowing this I quickly explore, and play a few games with the soldiers and buy a few drinks from the vendors that follow the march like vultures. When the moon rises I make my way back to Rikke's tent, hoping nothing went wrong while I was gone. When I arrive I'm surprised to see Rikke not only in her tent, but halfway through a case of Spiced Wine.

I see her struggling to get out of her armor, her drunken fingers unable to undo the lace. "W-Would you like me to help remove your armor?" She turns clumsily to look at me and hisses, "No you dumb wench! I was just dancing! Please, feel free to continue standing there!" I've been around gruff people all my life, but for some reason it hurts coming from Rikke. I wipe the look of hurt off my face and quickly cross over to her and undo her laces, allowing her armor to fall to the ground.

When her armor is finally off she lets out a breath and whispers, "Don't let my words cut you too deeply, I didn't mean to call you dumb. I guess I've been at war so long I'm just use to snarling orders. My last squire just snarled right back, I guess I just assumed you'd do the same." I don't know what to say, so I just nod my head and put her armor up.

"Stop doing that." She tells me as I turn to sit beside her. "W-What?" I ask her. She snorts and tells me, "Just nodding whenever someone ask you to do something. Last I checked you're not mute, speak once in a while. And try not to stutter, the rabble in this camp will take that as weakness and try to eat you alive." I almost nod my head, but instead whisper, "I'll try." I almost jump as she pats me on the shoulder. "You know, traditionally I'd teach you something new every night. So in case I die you'd know what to do. I suppose we best get started if you want to learn everything by the time we reach the Rift."

She pulls her table towards us and pulls a map of Skyrim out of her pack. She lays the map out and uses rocks to weigh the ends down. The map has a red line from Solitude to Riften, the path cutting through Whiterun and a small area of Eastmarch. "We'll cut down the Karth River until we're a few miles past Dragon Bridge, then we'll cross. We'll go down the main road to Rorikstead. We can't stop at Whiterun, but we can pass close enough to it that traders are sure to come to us. We'll follow the White River until we get to Darkwater River, and cross the river there. Then we just follow the water until we hit Riften. When we get into the Rift we'll send small amounts of troops out to secure forts. That's about it, easier said than done though. We'll lets turn in."

"Us?" I ask as she climbs into her bed. "Yes, as my squire you sleep in my tent in case of an emergency or if I need you." I can't help but be relieved, I wasn't looking forward to sleeping in the middle of a camp where I didn't know anyone. As I try to sleep I can't stop but wonder what the future holds, and why I'm suddenly anxious about the morrow.


	3. Drinking Games

The next morning Legate Rikke shakes me awake and tells me,"You and I will ride ahead of the soldiers to Dragon Bridge, to warn the guards that over two hundred soldiers will be marching through in less than an hour. One of my trusted advisers will lead the troops over the Dragon Bridge and a few miles away from the town. We'll stay in the village for the night to speak with the captain of the guard about reinforcements. Now come on, we can't waste time."

When Legate Rikke told me we'd be riding ahead I almost sighed in relief, I didn't want to wait around for an hour while everyone packs up and prepares to ride. We pack, mount our horses, and ride as quick as we can. What would take the soldiers an hour or two takes Rikke and me less than five minutes, we even have time to eat breakfast at the inn. When we tell the guards the soldiers will pass through town they all groan, but go ahead and prepare for the march. 'Preparing' apparently means warning the citizens and hiding all the animals from sight, apparently there have been some problems with soldiers in the past.

Legate Rikke leads me back over to the local inn, apparently the captain of the guard doesn't have any other place to house his soldiers. "Should I be part of the conversation, o-or do you want me to go do something?" I ask Rikke as she sits down. She gives me a confused look and tells me, "You act as if you're a housecarl instead of a future Legate. Sit down, and try to learn something." We have to wait a few minutes before the captain sits down, but the conversation starts immediately.

"I already know what you want, and the answer is no." The captain says before Rikke can even ask. After letting out a sigh Rikke tells him, "We need soldiers, Rorikstead is our next stop and they're currently neutral so they can't lend us _any help_. You have fifty soldiers under your command, I want thirty to accompany us. I also want two hundred pounds of your food rations, your ten finest horses, and five of your famous hunting hounds.

The captain's eyes widen and he exclaims, "You're mad! We only have three hundred pounds of food stored away, twenty horses in total, and seven hounds. I can give you seven men, two horses, twenty pounds of food, and one hound." Rikke considers the offer before saying, "Two hundred and fifty pounds of food, forty men, fifteen horses, and all of your hounds." When he begins arguing Rikke calmly lays her blade on the table and tells him, "You brought this on yourself, if you'd accepted my first offer you wouldn't need to give so much away. I'll pay you twice what the supplies are worth, leave you in peace, and I promise we won't touch a single of your pigs." As an afterthought she says, "Or your women."

The man is forced to watch as Rikke lays a sack of gold on the table, sheathes her sword, gets up, and walks away without a second look. When I remain sitting she turns and says, "Follow." I obediently rise and follow her into the nearest room, all the while the captain stares after us with his mouth open in shock. "Why did you demand so much from your own people?" I ask her as we sit down at the small table in our room, a meal already prepared for us. "First, they aren't my people. The citizens and soldiers of Dragon Bridge consider themselves neutral, although if it wasn't for the Empire they'd be burned down to the ground. Second, I demand so much because we need twice as much as they have. And, Rorikstead and Whiterun are unlikely to offer us any assistance. There's also a good change troops from Windhelm will attack our flank while we travel to the Rift."

"Now, I believe it's time for your lesson." Once again she pulls the map of Skyrim out. "Before we start, run and get me a pitcher or ale." By the time I get back Rikke is in her nightwear and her meal is eaten, as I hand her the ale I smile when I see my bread has a chunk cut out of it. Rikke takes a large gulp of her drink before saying, "I taught you about our path, now I'm going to teach you how long it'll take us. It'll take us two to three days to reach Rorikstead, five or six before our tail end passes through. From there to Whiterun it'll take us three weeks, but we won't have to march in such a long formation. Passing through the mountains and past Windhelm will be tricky, but won't take more than a week. Then we enter the Rift, which will hopefully be ours in less than a month."

"Of course, there's always the change that bandit attacks, weather, or starvation could halt our progress. Now, I'm sleepy and wish to rest. Do what you please, just don't bring them back into my room." As she climbs into bed I make my way over to my own room to sleep. My rest is deep and uneventful, for which I'm thankful.

* * *

I'm awoken by the howling of a raging storm outside, and Rikke smacking me in the face with a pillow. "Uh? What's going on?" I mumble as Rikke yanks me to my feet. "The storm of the century is outside, the troops are hunkered down against a cliff for protection. So a courier tells me. We'll have to stay here until the storm dies down, which the locals say will be in three days."I feel anger rise up in me. "So, why did you wake me up in the middle of the night?! This could have-" I'm cut off by a light smack, while not enough to hurt it gets me to stop talking."This news was worth waking you up, it'll effect our plans. It's also a perfect example of what I said last night. Now, go to sleep." She pats me on the head mockingly and leaves my room.

I snarl as I slam my head back on my pillow, attempting to go to sleep. After an hour of rolling around I realize it's fruitless, and I push myself up to go get a drink. I sit beside Rikke and yell, "Serving wench, a pitcher of water!" Rikke lightly elbows me and yells, "Ignore my companion, three pitchers of your finest drink!" I turn to face Rikke and yell, "Bring Rikke whatever she wants, but bring me a pitcher of water." I can't help the smile that crosses my face when I realize that I haven't stuttered yet. "Bring _Legate_ Rikke and her companion three pitchers of drink, if I see a drop of water I'll cut out your tongue and feed it to a goat." Not surprisingly, Legate Rikke's offer wins over the girl. Give her some beer and you get to keep your tongue, a fair deal.

Sure enough, the wench puts down three pitchers of beer, two glasses, and a slab of ham. "Why did you stop me from ordering water?" I ask as she forces a full cup into my hand. "We're going to be here a while, so we may as well have a little fun. The villagers will crowd in here when the morrow comes, so I ordered extra beer. Tomorrow when we've sobered up we'll fight our way down to the bath house, until then we can be drunk off our asses. Now," She pulls out a bag of coins and drops it between us. "I'm going to try to flip a coin in your cup, if I make it you have to drink a mouthful of beer and tell me a secret. If I miss I'm the one that drinks, then you go and so on and so forth."

I consider it before asking, "And, why would I play this?" She laughs and says, "You're bored, can't sleep, and wouldn't dare disobey your commander." I let out a deep sigh, push my cup forward, and tell her, "Go ahead." She gets up, moves to sit across from me, and flicks the coin. It smacks the table, flies in the air, and lands in my cup with a _blob. _I roll my eyes and raise the cup to my lips, I almost retch when the sour beer passes my lips. Chocking it down, I ask Rikke, "What kind of secret do I tell?" She shrugs and says, "I couldn't care less." I think about it and says, "I once got into a drinking contest, I won, but got sick as a dog."

She gives me a disappointed look and says, "A **good **secret, come up with a better one." I think for a minute and tell her, "On my eighteenth name day I went out to a bawdy tavern with some friends, easy to say we all got drunk as skunks. On the way home I had to piss like a horse, so I just went behind a bush to pee. I didn't notice there were kids on the other side of the bush, they all got a wonderful view of a drunk pissing. I was suppose to go to jail, but the village counsel was kind in my case. They just made me put my name on a list of rapers and child molesters, so the guards knew who committed any sexual crimes."

Suddenly she's laughing like I just told her the funniest joke in the world, after she's done she tells me, "You're the only woman I know who could get on a list of rapers, just for peeing! Bravo!" After she's done mock clapping I roll my eyes and pick up a coin. When it lands in her cup with a _blob _she says, "I once punched a soldier in the face for snoring. He thought his tent mate did it and they both got into a huge fight, it even came to physical blows. In the end I just sat back and watched them hack each other to pieces." After I'm done laughing we continue the game.

"When I was little I stole fish from my local market." I tell her.

"Beer is better than wine, in my opinion."

"I was a skooma addict for ten years."

"When I was little I never wanted to be a Legate."

The more beer we drink the deeper our secrets get, it's obvious to both of us.

"I don't mind the taste of human flesh, especially holy men."

"When I found out a spy was among our ranks I killed him by slipping poison in his mead."

She misses my cup and is forced to tell the next secret.

"I used to have a crush on Tullius, but I got over him years ago."

I don't know why but I tell her the next secret on instinct, probably because of the beer.

"I prefer the touch of a woman over a man."

As once she chokes on her mead and stares at me with wide eyes. Before she can say anything, ten villagers push their way into the tavern. Pulling me up she says, "Come on the bath houses are probably abandoned by now." As she drags me away I can't help but think, 'Does she still want me as her squire?'.


	4. The Bathhouse

The storm has only intensified, we'll be soaked by the time we get to the bathhouse. The bathhouse is located beside the river, the only way to get there is down a step, narrow path. I pull my hood over my head and focus of Rikke's back, I know if I so much as glance down I'll fall. Of course, my natural instinct is to look down. As my fall begins I only have time to curse my own stupidity.

The only reason I don't fall to my doom is Legate Rikke grasping my hood, and in the process strangling me. I hear Rikke cursing as she rushes down the path, all the while attempting to heave me back on the path. I quickly realize what's going on and stop struggling, although my air supply is still cut off. When we're close to the stony ground Rikke drops me, I crash to the ground and quickly suck in as much air as I can.

Rikke runs over, pulls me to my feet, and quickly examines my body for injuries. Raising my arms, turning my head, bending my fingers. By the time she's done we're soaked and she's bent every joint in my body in search of injuries. "What's wrong with you?! You could have broken your neck!" She yells over the storm as she drags me into the bathhouse.

"I lost my footing. More importantly, thank you." At this, she pauses as an uncomfortable look crosses her face. "Don't go looking to far into this lass, I can't find a squire as good as you on such short notice." To end the conversation Rikke turns away from me and spreads out her arms. I hold in my sigh and untie Rikke's gauntlets as she kicks off her boots.

I undo her cuirass as she takes off her leggings and helm, after which she quickly undoes her undergarments. As she makes her way over to the water I peel off my tunic, trousers, and hood. I notice Rikke's boots are full of water and silently thank myself for leaving my shoes in my room. My undergarments are soaked and I have to fight to get them off, I can't imagine how we'll get back to the inn. I make my way over to the bathing area, Rikke hesitantly standing at the edge of the water.

The bathing area is in essence a giant tub that's half in and half out of the river, the water coming directly from the river. The north and south sides of the tub have circular holes cut into them with metal curtains, the bathers can raise them up or down to gain or lose water. The tub itself is made out of metal. In my opinion, it's a horrible choice to make a tub out of.

"Something wrong?" I ask Rikke as she eyes the river water. "It's freezing and a stray salmon has gotten trapped in the tub." I can't help laughing, which seems to anger Rikke. "What's so funny?" I smile and tell her, "The salmon is an easily fixable problem, as for the temperature." I raise my open hand and call upon my magicka and imagine the flames leaping from my palm. Soon enough I have a roaring fire in the palm of my hand.

I push the fire against the metal and keep a careful eye on the water, I want it to the point of steaming and not to the point of boiling. When the water's warm enough I quickly hop in and wad over to the swimming salmon. Due to the rising heat he's dying and is done fighting. I flip him onto the floor, splash over to the edge of the tub, and quickly begin rubbing the grime of the trail off.

"Sounds like the storm's over, I suppose we can head out tomorrow morning." Rikke tells me as she cleans herself. "Tell me, should I send the troops out ahead of us or wait to lead them myself?" Rikke ask me as I finish cleaning my claws. I realize it's a test and carefully answer, "If you waited you could know exactly what's going on and handle situations how you want to. However, a trusted adviser could do your job just as well. The soldiers could gain ground and we could easily catch up. If I were you I'd send a courier to tell the troops to get a move on."

She pats me on the back as she gets out and says, "You're smarter than you look, I'll send the courier immediately when we return to the village. Now, hurry up and get dress-" Her words are cut off as she examines our soaked uniforms. "It may have been a bad decision to come down here without dry clothes." She examines the empty bathhouse and says, "No towels or anything to keep dry. I suppose we'll just have to rush up to the inn and get dressed there."

"What?" I ask her in shock as I pick up the salmon. "You heard me, now come on." She tells me as she picks up her armor and leaves. I stare after her and quickly run to catch up when I realize it'll be worse it I'm alone. Surprisingly, the village is near empty and the patrons of the bar simply turn away with reddened cheeks. We dry off, dress, and make our way over to the roaring fire.

She lays the salmon in front of me and ask, "Any idea how to clean and cook this?" I smile, pull out my dagger, and begin cleaning the fish. When I've separated the edibles from the non-edibles Rikke ask me, "How is it you know how to do this so well?" I hang the fish over the fire, turn to her, smile, and say, "There's a reason the Imperials wanted to cut off my head."

"I thought you were border jumping?" She asks me as she eats her small portion of fish. "No. I was poaching over in the Rift when the Thalmor found me, usually they wouldn't have been able to prove I was poaching. But, when you see someone with three bloody deer at her feet you tend to not need proof." I tell her as I finish my fish and mead. "They almost killed you over three deer?" I laugh and tell her, "Not exactly. I had a large selection of bear pelts, fox hides, rabbit legs, and deer pelts on my person. They also found my small cabin, it had a small fortune of animal skins and meat inside."

She smiles and says, "Remind me not to eat you when we run out of food." I laugh and recline in my chair. We spend the next few hours simply talking and drinking. By the time I go to bed I've found out quite a bit about Rikke and I am more than a little drunk. When my head hits the pillow I'm out like a light.


	5. Ygfa the Wondrous

The next morning we mount our horses and wait for the supplies to arrive, the food will be tied to the back of the horses while the men lead the hounds. Along with the forty men, three prisoners will accompany us. Last night there were only two prisoners in the local barracks, until a foolish local decided he'd try to slip poison it Rikke's mead. Apparently, he lost three pigs to rambunctious soldiers in the past and decided to take justice into his own hands. Now, he'll be marching to Riften with us and either die for or because of Rikke.

When the food is on the horse's back, the men gathered with the hounds in hand, and Rikke mounted and ready, I blow the war horn Rikke gave me and spur my horse forward. With the addition of fifteen horses Rikke had me switch my scrawny bag of bones for a true warhorse. His fur and mane are a deep chestnut that matches my own fur, and he has a temper to match my own. Thankfully, he decides to go the way I lead him and doesn't fight when the hound beside him snarls at him.

When I first approached him he reared and showed me his jagged teeth, when I attempted to mount he wailed and bucked. It took me half an hour to mount him, and even then he made his discontent known. In honor of his disturbing grin I promptly dubbed him 'Smiler'. When Rikke learned of the name she threw he head back and laughed, although she assured me it was simply because of the name.

As we ride I lean over towards Rikke, offer her the sack of her belongings, and ask, "Would you like your valuables back?" She eyes the sack and answers, "Nay, carry them until the night." I put the sack in my saddlebag and yank back on Smiler's reins, it seems he decided he wants to run. The riding is fast, but painful, my thighs and hands are covered in saddle sores, my neck is sore from where I was choked, and a light rain is starting.

When we finally catch up to the moving soldiers Rikke orders the new group where to go, and waves for me to follow her to the head of the caravan. She leans over, pulls me towards her, and whispers, "Tonight we have to find a place to stay, most of the soldiers are becoming ill and can't stay out in the cold. I know a place we can stay, although I'd rather not. A half-mad woman's made her castle in between here and Rorikstead, she usually grants us rest, meat, and mead for the night. However, we all can't just show up and expect her to be ready. I need you to ride as quick as you can, tell her the circumstances and return with her reply." I can tell by her tone it's a command and not a request, so I lower my head and spur Smiler into a sprint.

* * *

The 'castle' Rikke told me to find is little more than a square, wooden fort with a pit of spikes dug around it, although the sight of it sends fear into my heart. As I ride past the spikes I hear Smiler let out a nervous whimper, I suppose her can feel the evil air around this place. Along the walls are skulls of man, mer, beast, and animal alike, a few of the skulls even have a bit of flesh still hanging from them. I almost loose heart and flee when I see the head of a khajiit mounted above the door, but remind myself she's suppose to be a friend and push on.

As soon as I enter the door I'm tackled, forced to the ground, and feel a dagger press against my neck. "Daughter, who dares enter my castle unannounced?" I hear a wispy voice say from some unseen location. "Just a moment." I hear a bell-like voice answer above my head. I'm forced onto my knees and hear the same voice hiss in my ear, "Who are you and why do you disturb the peace of Ygfa the Wondrous?" I force the stutter out of my voice and answer, "I'm a squire of Legate Rikke, she commanded me to seek out Ygfa and ask for roof and meat for the night."

"Why does your mistress send a lackey to do her job?" She snarls. I swallow and feel a drop of blood roll down my neck, I ignore the urge to vomit and answer, "She's b-busying leading a mighty host and wanted to ask you sooner rather than later, she meant no o-offense." She laughs and says, "Don't worry cat, we have enough of your people's pelts on our walls. For now. Your mistress and her host may stay here for the night. However, don't expect us to let you go running off to tell her. For all we know she could plan on storming our defenses, but she won't dare risk it if her little servant doesn't return. Now, eat, drink, sing, or dance. Do whatever you please until the host arrives, you just can't leave the castle."

It's only when I nod my head in understanding she gets off me and stands. As I rise I feel her grab my tail, yank it taunt, and run her dagger down the length of it. I leap up and turn around to see her examining the fistful of fur she has in her hand. "Pretty fur you have there, always wanted a red cape." I open my mouth to stutter out some response, when she places the tip of her dagger on the tip of my left fang. "Not a bad head either, I bet it would look even better mounted above my bed. Remember," She turns the dagger and hits my nose with the flat of the blade, "who's in charge around here." As she walks away I feel pure terror rise in my throat and pray I'm not a skull when Rikke arrives.

* * *

When Legate Rikke arrives I sprint over to her and forget all about my courage as I quickly put her between me and Ygfa's daughter. The same daughter that attempted to skin me has been following me for the last three hours, as if she's waiting for the chance to kill, gut, and stuff me. I haven't even bothered to learn her name, Ygfa has so many children she did away with names long ago.

The daughter's jaw clenches and she gives me a sullen look, but slinks away all the same. "I'm away for three hours and you've already found a friend? Impressive." Rikke tells me with a wolfish grin. "She won't leave!" I tell her as I watch the woman go inside. "Ah, the daughters are always curious about those outside their family. Although with you being a khajiit she was probably measuring you to see if she can make you a loincloth ." I sigh and ask, "What's with this place?" Suddenly, Rikke stops and turns to me. "After we've set up the tent I'll tell you-" I ignore the rest of her sentence and run off to find her tent.

After the tents set up I simply wait for Rikke, and she soon sits down across from me. "It's not nice to run away from someone mid-sentence." She tells me. "Sorry, won't happen again ,etc." I tell her as I lean in to hear her better. "Now, remember these people are different from us and hold different views. Now, where do I start?"

"First, she's madder than Ulfric and twice as ugly. Second, she marries her own sons and sells her daughters if they can't do anything useful. Her sons spend all of their time tending the fields, animals, or attempting to impregnate their mother or sisters. Although, I've seen more than one of her sons getting a little too fond of the animals on more than one occasion. Back to the point, she couldn't care less if her daughters are pregnant as long as one of her sons isn't the father, if she finds out he is the daughter and child are killed while the father is castrated. Her children are usually twisted and vile, I think the daughter you met is the only normal one and the only girl Ygfa is fond of."

Now that I think about it, Ygfa and her daughter are both pregnant, I shudder at the thought of what children they'll bring into the world. "Third, their only 'defense' is a rusty ax Ygfa has mounted on the wall. This means half the children she gives birth to are eaten by some predator or stolen by some passing civilian that can give them a better life. Ygfa's probably given birth to half a hundred children and doesn't care who dies and who lives, as long as she has enough to serve her."

"Finally, you might have noticed the skulls and pelts. They're avid hunters of man, mer, beast, animals, and anything that moves. They only hunt animals for food and they don't mind hunting man and mer, but their favorite game are the beast races. Honestly, after I sent you I was worried I'd find Ygfa with a new blanket and a strange meat awaiting me. That's all I've to tell. Questions?"

I just stare at her before asking, "How is this legal and why is nobody stopping this?!" She laughs before patting me on the shoulder and saying, "I honestly don't have an answer." Our conversation is cut off by a war horn being blown. "Come on, supper." Rikke says as she walks away. As I stand to follow I think, 'What hell has Rikke brought me to?'.


	6. Angoril

The first thing I notice when I sit down to sup is that it appears Ygfa has a new ax, from the look of it Rikke's ax. When I throw her a questioning glance she smiles and shrugs, I go ahead and assume it's a gift. The second is the fact the meat in front of me is raw, it's the same all around the table. A raw slab of venison, leg of rabbit, and thin ale are the only items on the menu. Many of the men look disgusted at the food, but have no choice to eat it or offend their insane host. For once I'm glad I'm a khajiit, the men around me will no doubt fall ill due to the meat while I'll be fine.

I nearly chock on the rabbit leg when a hand slaps me on the back, as I cough up the meat the chair beside me is pulled back and a body falls into it. "Enjoying the meat, fuzzball?" The daughter asks me as she takes the slab of venison from my plate. I deny her an answer and go back to gnawing on my rabbit's bone, the daughter beside me munches on my venison loudly. "Did one of my fellows already cut out your tongue? Shame, I wanted to do that." My anger flares, but I deny myself the pleasure of rising to her taunts.

After the bone is stripped of meat I begin chewing on the end, planning on reaching the marrow inside. Before I can reach my prize a hand reaches over, rips the bone away, and snaps it beside my ear. Instinctively my ears flatten and I hiss, when I turn I see a triumphant smile on the woman's face. She reminds me of my cousin Angoril, I tire of knowing her as a nameless face and dub her Angoril. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by her taunting, "You know kitty, hissing isn't very nice." She lifts a hand, to do what I'll never know.

Rikke must notice I'm in trouble because the next thing I know she's yelling for me, although her plate and flagon are still full. I rise and force myself to calmly walk over to Rikke, I have a feeling Angoril would only find amusement in my fear. Rikke pulls my ear to her mouth and whispers, "I've heard her taunting, you're handling yourself very well. However, you can't defend yourself. I know it'll be tough, but if you offend her she can easily have your hide and I couldn't do a thing about it. Or worse, she'd forcibly take you as her wife. I think she's having fun, if she's happy Ygfa's happy. So keep it up, and don't you dare offend her. If you do,well, imagine watching the host march away as you kneel beside that bitch's feet."

I gulp, nod, and scurry away to find some more meat, an easy task. Most of the soldiers have managed to choke down the raw meat, but quite a few gladly hand their food over to me upon request. I find a quite corner to sit down and enjoy my meal, unsurprisingly the peace doesn't last long. "So little pussycat, what did your mistress have you do?" I consider ignoring her, but I have a feeling she'd get angry if I simply stay mute the entire night. "She had me fetch her another batch of ale."

Her lips peel back to reveal rotten teeth and she says, "So, she can speak. But can she listen?" She snatches some more meat off my plate and calmly tells me, "My siblings are talking about rebelling against Ygfa, they have been for years. The girls don't wish to serve her or be sold as slaves, and not a one of them wants to have a child fathered by her brother. As for the boys, none of them wish to become her sexual property or toil away in the fields. If only they had a chance to rebel and a weapon or two to beat Ygfa to death. You know a lot of soldiers leave their weapons lying around, and a few of them wouldn't notice if they went missing."

I nearly scream for Rikke, but I force myself to stay calm and ask, "Why tell me this?" She licks her greasy fingers and says, "Just making conversation with someone lower than myself. You know, anyone who survived the fight with Ygfa would surely pledge themselves to the Imperial Legion. Imagine, at least seventy more soldiers and half as many horses and livestock." She slowly downs her pitcher of ale. I furrow my brow and ask, "Why tell me and not Legate Rikke?"

She laughs before telling me, "You're the first person that isn't a soldier to come through here in years. And, I think you remind them of themselves, in the midst of power yet powerless." For some reason this angers me and I snarl, "I'm a proud solider of the Imperial Legion and I'm just as powerful as-" She slaps a hand over my mouth and whispers, "No you aren't, you're just a pathetic little squire. You aren't even close to being a Legionnaire, thank the nine for that. They trust you even though they don't know you" When she removes her hand I snarl, "I'm still powerful..." She sighs, shakes her head, and tells me, "A wise man that passed through here once said, 'Power is just an illusion, like a shadow on the wall. Even a short man can cast a very, very tall shadow.' That being said, what does that say about the people like you? The people that cast no shadow at all?"

"Now, listen closely. You can gain soldiers, livestock, horses, and stop this screwed up place from continuing to exist. All you lose is a wooden box soldiers and travelers occasionally stop at so they can rest for the night. All you would need to do is trust me for less than three seconds. I've dreamed of driving this," She pats the rusty ax on her side. "into Ygfa's skull ever since she sold my first daughter as a sex slave to some filthy bandit chief. The only thing holding me back is fear, fear of what'll happen to me, the animals, and my siblings if Ygfa dies. When she falls I want you to protect my back if battle erupts. I also want you to promise you'll talk to your precious mistress about taking us along, after Ygfa falls of course. Now, come on."

I grasp her hand and ask, "What makes you think I'll help you?" She sits back down, leans in, and tells me, "You hate this place, more than the average people. I'm not sure what happened in your screwed up past, but this place has a personal effect on you. When others would cringe and sneer you retch and cry, you want to see this place burn and Ygfa bleed. If you need more convincing, I'm her favorite daughter so Ygfa occasionally allows me to have prizes from across Skyrim. She calls them 'Trail Wives' or 'Trail Husbands', they're women and men foolish enough to upset us. As a Trail Wife you'd be little more than my slave. I'd keep you locked away in my room and you'd rely on me for food, shelter, and protect from my siblings. I'd take you as my wife, willing or not, whip you until your back's raw, and then I'd skin you and make your pelt into a nice cape. And, the best thing is the fact your mistress couldn't do a thing about it, else she'd risk losing this place as a hideout. Now, are you coming or am I going to get a new wife?"

I consider what she said, her words are true enough and I couldn't imagine a worse fate than becoming her Trail Wife. I can see the glint in her eyes and know she'd just as soon kill Ygfa as she would take me for her wife, in my opinion the first one sounds like it has a better ending for me. I stand up and follow Angoril, as we walk I can't help but ask her, "I thought you're pregnant?" She laughs and says, "Have enough kids and you'll always appear pregnant. I gave birth to my eleventh child three winters ago, he joined his ten dead siblings last summer when he snored too loud while Ygfa had a hangover. I had to watch as she twisted his head off his neck and fed it to her spotted bitch. I don't plan on having any more, at least while Ygfa still has blood in her veins. Enough story time, get ready."

While Rikke and the soldiers haven't noticed us, every one of Ygfa's children are watching us with wide eyes. Ygfa is lounging in her throne, her head barely rising over the back of the chair. Rikke is on her right and an empty chair is to her left. Angoril raises the ax, looks over at me, and silently brings the ax down in a wide arch. Ygfa's cutoff mid-sentence as her head is split in two, she and Rikke are splattered in brain matter and blood. Rikke simply stares dumbfound along with all the other soldiers, the children are silent, but I can see a smile appear on each of their faces. Wasting no time, Angoril leaps onto the table in front of Ygfa's dead body and yells, "Ygfa the Tyrant is now dead by my hand. As per tradition, since I'm her oldest child I have done away with her when she became too old to lead us. I, The Nameless Daughter of Ygfa, give full support to the Imperial Legion. Our supplies and men are yours to take, if you shall have us. What say you, Legate Rikke?"

Legate Rikke is in shock, but quickly overcomes it and says, "I accept your offer of men and supplies. According to our plan we shall ride tomorrow morning, now with the addition of your men and supplies. Now, drink and dance for the morrow is promising!" The soldiers are reluctant, but the children dance, drink, and sing to their hearts content. "Squire, I'm tired. Follow." Rikke commands me. With a glance over my shoulder at Angoril, I slowly follow Rikke.

When we reach the tent she flips around and snarls, **"What in Oblivion did you do?!"** My courage fails and I cower, but I manage to squeak out, "H-Her children h-hated living under her rule, and n-now we have over seventy men and a good amount of h-horses and supplies." She closes her eyes and snarls, "We've been using this place as a rest stop for over three years. While the benefits are useful now, we'll regret the losses later. **I should hang you for this!"** I simply cower as her eyes snap open and she glares at me. Slowly, her eyes soften and she tells me, "However, you have won us a small victory here tonight. We might regret it later, but it's useful now. In all honesty it was only a matter of time before one of her children murdered her, only now they've joined our cause. Even so, you have to be punished. I suppose I could keep it private, and no permanent marks shall be made. Take your breastplate off, turn around, and raise your arms above your head."

I drop my breastplate on the ground and turn away from Rikke. When my hands are up she ties them together and tells me, "Drop them and I add five lashes." I feel the bite of the whip before the sound reaches my ears, I bite my tongue to keep from yelping in surprise. The lashes hurt, but not nearly as much as they could. The wounds are shallow and spread far apart, the fifth lash lands before I know it. Rikke unties my hands and tells me, "I probably shouldn't do this, but drop your hands and leave your breastplate off." I do as I'm told, and feel the cooling sensation of medicine being applied to my back. "So they don't fester. I'm suppose to let them bleed to teach you a lesson, but I don't like the thought that you could end up dying. Now, the next best thing for lashings is rest. We have a big day tomorrow and you'll be miserable if you don't get some sleep." I nod, strip, and climb into my bed, I wasn't permitted to sleep in the castle. As darkness overcomes me, I thank the nine that everything went as well as it did.


	7. A Throne, a Task, and a Rapist

The next morning I'm awoken by the sounds of two hundred men getting ready to march. When I stretch I feel a thin stream of blood begin flowing down my back, I groan at the thought of putting my armor on. I look over to see Legate Rikke's bed abandoned, I assume she's out eating breakfast. I dress, sharpen my weapons, and go outside to find an empty seat. I quickly find a group of daughters sitting around a campfire, I take a seat by the youngest looking daughter.

At once she pushes a bowl of porridge into my hands, a smile splitting her face. As I eat my breakfast I carefully listen to the daughters, apparently the presence of a stranger won't stop their conversation. "Her body has been strung up outside the back gate, good riddance." A woman with a half charred face tells the girl beside her. The one who handed me the porridge nods and says, "Let's hope the crows don't get sick from eating the jelly from her eyes." A comfortable silence stretches on, it's only then I notice the oldest of the group is glaring at me.

"We were safe with Ygfa protecting us, and now we have to rely on the protect of a failing army. If you ask me, the crows should be feasting on the guts of the mangy beast that helped Nameless kill Ygfa." Before I can say anything, a woman covered in scars snarls, "Well we ain't asking you. Besides, what would you know? You have a name and didn't have to worry about being sold or killed. You don't know the pain of giving up a child, all you care about is your mead and the hunting. Now, shut up before we hang your milk drinking corpse beside her."

The woman snaps her jaws shut, leaps up, and storms away. "Don't let her get to you too much, she's the last of Ygfa's original daughters. Never even carried a child in her womb, never got beat, and she certainly never had to share a bed with her brother. She was content to simply drink away her days until Ygfa died and she became the leader, then Nameless came along and Ygfa ended up changing the line for the throne so Nameless took over after her death."

I furrow my brow and ask, "But last night Nameless said she was the oldest, she never even mentioned a line for the throne." At this all of the daughters laugh, after the scarred one calms down she tells me, "She is the oldest, of the most recent generation. As for the throne line, it wasn't certain. But after you two freed us of Ygfa, no one will challenge her claim."

As I scrape the last few oats from my bowl, I ask, "Are all of Ygfa's children so glad she's gone?" The one who handed me the food takes my bowl, refills it, and answers, "Half consider you a hero, the other half yearn for your head on a spike. Those who were abused by Ygfa see you as a savior, while those who just sat around and drank all day consider you a monster. Either way, we're all sworn to Nameless. And if she says we're loyal to the Legion then we're all loyal to the Legion. Even if our new leader meets her demise, you'll take over and it'll be fine."

I almost choke on my porridge, swallowing I ask, "What?" The daughters exchange looks before one of them answers, "After you retired to bed, Nameless set up a new line for the throne. It was basically the same as Ygfa's line, only you were at the top. You should be honored, Ygfa only let one outsider in her line and he was the very last." I put down my bowl, thank the daughters for their companionship, and run off to find Angoril.

I run around half the camp before I find her outside my tent, apparently she had planned on telling me. "Why did one of your sisters tell me I'm the next in line after you?!" I ask her as she admires Smiler. "Ah, I thought you'd find out. Listen to me before you get angry, and don't interrupt. While everyone is sworn to me they have no love for me, nor will they ever. Even though a good amount of them wear your kinds pelts as undergarments, when you killed Ygfa they started loving you in a way they never loved anyone else. And I've no doubt there will be fights among us and attempts on my life, I want to know if I fall in battle they'll have a half-decent person to lead them. Even though you're prey, they see you as a hero and would listen to you."

Her answer shocks me and I ask, "How do you know I'm a decent person?" She smiles and answers, "I made the same offer to five other people and got two wives and three husbands in return." When she sees my smile she tells me, "Don't get a big head, fuzzy. Now go, your mistress wanted to see you. She's over by the healers tent waiting for you." I thank her for telling me and run off to find Rikke.

I find Rikke eating a piece of ham outside the healer's tent. "You wished to see me?" I ask her. She looks up and answers, "Yes, step inside and let the healer look at your back." While my wounds hurt I doubt they're serious, but when I tell Rikke that she glares and says, "Fine. I'm ordering you to get the wounds checked. Now." I sigh and step into the tent. The short man inside looks up and motions for me to lie down on the only table in the room.

After a few minutes of poking and prodding he says, "I've seen worse wounds from wolf bites." I sigh, dress, and exit the tent. "I'm fine and he thinks I'm a babe for seeing him over such minor wounds." I tell Rikke as I follow her back to our tent. "It's good to know you won't die when we ride today. Now, do you recall when I asked about the march's speed? We were in the bathhouse." When I tell her I do she says, "Good. That was a test, now you're ready for the next one. The prisoners just arrived and they're famished. Usually a veteran warrior feeds them, now you're going to. Just for the day, don't worry."

"Me!?" I ask her. She smiles and replies, "Usually your first battle is your test of courage. However, you ran from Nameless when I first arrived. Some would think you craven for running from a young woman. So instead you'll be hand feeding rapers, murders, and anarchist. Don't worry, you won't be feeding all of them." I'm relieved until she says, "The men would break their wrist trying to you, you'll be feeding the women. Murderers, thieves, rapers, and more." My heart falls and I ask, "How many are there?" She laughs and answers, "Twenty, five wagons with four in each. Before you go in I'll read you their crimes. Now, come on. We don't want to keep the soldiers hungry, do we?"

* * *

We arrive at the first wagon far too soon for my liking. Rikke hands me four chunks of bread, four bottles of mead, and tells me, "Give me all of your weapons, I don't want them getting their hands on one. Now, time for the crimes." My stomach churns as she says, "One of them killed her husband in a drunken rage, only her three year old babe saw and told her husband's father. Another was an assassin sent by the Dark Brotherhood to kill Elisif the Fair, thankfully she killed one of her decoys. The one with the missing left eye is a master thief, although she was picking a lock at just the wrong time. Finally, the Imperial in there is one of the worst rapers we ever caught. Men, women, children, you name it. Well, I'm sure they're starving so get to work! I'll be back at the tent, here's the list of their crimes. Make sure to read them before you feed them."

I watch Rikke leave and then climb into the wagon, I make my way towards the back where the killer and assassin face-off. The murderer meekly eats her meal and quietly thanks me, the assassin wolfs down her meal and attempts to bite off one of my fingers. I warily make my way over to the thief, I can see laughter in her one good eye. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. I won't hurt you. Much." I refuse to take the bait and feed her the bread, although she also attempts to bite my finger. Only she hits the mark, I jerk my finger back and hiss. I turn my back to her as she laughs, and offer the raper her bread and mead. She wolfs it down, but instead of snapping she licks the length of my palm. The raper, thief, and assassin share a laugh when I cringe.

I turn to leave and hear the thief say, "Hey, pussycat! You gave the others their mead and forgot me!" Sure enough, when she bit me I forgot to give her the mead. After she drinks it down she says, "You know, you aren't as bad as the other soldiers." I turn my back to her and hear her whisper, "Almost makes me sorry." I underestimated how far she could get her arms, I never thought she'd be able to get her arms around me. However, my view changes once I'm pulled into her lap. Her arms form an iron cage around me, preventing me from running.

I feel her teeth sink into the back of my neck, when she has a secure hold she shakes her head wildly. I don't know what she's doing, but I'm reminded of my mother's hounds snapping a rabbit's neck. While I don't know what she's doing I have no doubt the result will be my cold body, unless I find a way to break her grip. I elbow, punch, kick, claw, and do whatever I can to break her hold. I'm not sure if I've hurt her or if she simply gets bored, but the next moment I'm flying forward. I'm relieved, until I lose my balance and fall into the raper's open arms.

While my back was to the thief my front was to the raper, which makes it all the easier for her to force open my hips and trap me on her lap. One of her hands is on the small of my back, keeping me from escaping. She forces her other hand in my mouth to prevent me from calling for help, and her teeth bite my neck where the thief bit. _I don't want them to get their hands on any weapons. _If I had a weapon the raper would be dead and I wouldn't be forced to flail around in her lap, desperately trying to break free.

As she undoes the latches on my breastplate I feel her readjust her hips, I'm forced to get even closer to her. After the last latch is undone she doesn't bother removing the breastplate, forcing it and my undershirt down just enough so she can bite my jugular notch. My knuckles are bleeding, my wrist and aching, and I'm certain at least three of my fingers are broken. I suppose my hands are so injured because I've missed my target half of the time, my fist hitting the wooden cart instead of the raper. My knees, head, and body are successfully trapped so I can do little more than weakly punch the criminal with my already injured fist. I've already bitten the hand in my mouth at least five times, it seems she couldn't care less.

My breastplate clatters to the floor as she attempts to pull off my leggings, and curses when she can't. The tears that formed when she started undoing my breastplate finally fall, and I hate myself for allowing the raper to see them. She takes a moment to stop biting and examines my crying face, and slightly laughs before resuming her biting. I feel the fight slowly drain out of me as the raper successfully pulls my leggings off enough to reveal my undergarments. As she's attempting to get my leggings off further I hear the sound that enrages me. _Laughing._

The thief, assassin, and even the murderer are _laughing _while they watch the raper begin forcing herself on someone. My already festering rage intensifies while the murderer laughs, the thief happily urges her on, and the assassin jokingly gives her advice. My jaw locks and for once the raper tries to reclaim her fingers. I open my jaw, and take her entire hand in my mouth before biting down. "**DAMN IT! LET GO YOU LITTLE WHORE!" **The raper roars as she forgets all thoughts of rape and begins trying to force me to let go of her hand.

Her three companions shout vulgar insults, but none of them can reach me. Only when both of her hands are on my face do I release her now bloody hand, and snap my head forward to slam into her own. The impact makes a loud _crack _sound and the raper slumps in her seat, unconscious. I instantly grab my armor and run out, the thief sticking out her foot and tripping me. Their laughter once again erupts as I fall flat on my face.

I force myself up and run, to where I don't know. The wagons are on the edge of camp and everyone is at the front, ready to march. I simply find a rock and hide myself, half afraid one of the prisoners will somehow pursue me. After I've calmed down I slowly put on my armor, my ruined hands making the task a struggle. I have no idea what I'm going to do, Rikke will notice if I suddenly can't do any of the task she assigns. Not to mention, I still have four wagons of prisoners to feed. I consider going to Rikke and telling her what happened, she'd forget the task and the raper would surely get punished.

No. There's no way in Oblivion I want Rikke to know what happened, I don't want anyone to know what happened. Slowly, I rip my undershirt into two giant strips and wrap them around my hands. Now it'll look like nothing's wrong and no one will know what happened. I force myself up, make my way back to the wagons (avoiding the one I was just in), and pick up the sack of bread and mead. I don't bother looking at the list, who cares what these people did?

A few of the prisoners cause trouble, but never to the extent the first wagon did. If they dare attempt anything I simply slap them, or in more extreme cases a swift punch. My hands are now little more than two chunks of unfeeling meat, perfect for hitting. After my job's done I make my way back to Rikke, my hands dead hunks of flesh all the way.

When she sees me approaching Rikke smiles and says, "Looks like the job's done. Good-" I've gotten close enough she can see me clearly, "By the nine, you look like shit. What happened?" I freeze and slowly answer, "Nothing, just a little trouble with the prisoners. All taken care of, nothing to worry about." She smiles and says, "Good, you've passed the test. Now come on, let's ride." I climb onto Smiler and spur him forward. Only a few minutes into the ride and my hands are once again throbbing in agony, I have no idea how I'll survive the ride.


	8. The First Hunt

Agony, pure and simply. I'm forced to use my broken hands to hold the reins, and instantly a wave of pain washes over me. The broken fingers are forced to close, ruptured tendons make it impossible to close my thumb, and torn muscles scream in protest. At one point I consider simply dropping my hands and trying to ride with only my legs, but I've no doubt Smiler would buck me the first chance he got. Whenever Legate Rikke looks over I'm forced to smooth my face into an expressionless mask, and talk to her without groaning in pain.

Every step Smiler takes sends another wave of agony through my body, I've more bruises than I can count. I'm almost certain I won't be sleeping tonight, for the simple fact the muscles in my hands would tighten in the night. I have to find a healer as soon as I can, there's no way I'll be able to do anything remotely useful with my hands. Although it could take a few days before one catches up with the caravan, and my hands could swell in that amount of time.

I know one healing spell, although it would only be strong enough to dull the pain. Not to mention I'd have to use my hands to cast, it'd last less than a few seconds, and a salve would be more effective. I might be able to find a mage willing to heal me, but I'm certain they'd pull some dirty trick on me while they're at it. Besides, they'd charge an unreasonable amount for any sort of healing. All I can do is bite my tongue, in hopes the pain would distract me from my hands.

* * *

When we finally stop I nearly fall off Smiler, the only reason I don't is I tighten my legs at the last second. I forced my hands to grasp Smiler's saddle, and slowly dismount. "Come on, the night is nigh and I want the tent set up before dinner." I don't bother answering, I don't trust my voice at the moment. Thankfully, my hands are once again numb and I'm able to clumsily put up the tent. With my handiwork done I strike out to find a healer or mage, although my hopes aren't high.

When I manage to find a mage he's busy doing tricks for a group of soldiers, and he's drug away when the soldiers realize his partner is taking their gold while they're distracted. The healer I find is too busy making salves for future battles, although she tells me to come back in half an hour. Meekly, I attempt to rest for a few minutes before returning to the healer.

My dreams are haunted by nightmares, but I manage to sleep until the healer's free. Slowly, she peels my wrappings away and gazes at my now swollen hands. "By the eight, dare I ask what happened?" When I shake my head she tells me, "I know a few healing spells, but I'll need to move the bones back into place. A few of the muscles will need extensive healing and rest, and one of your major tendons may never work properly again. Now, the moving of the bones will be excruciating. Do you wish to take some kava root tea? I always find it lessens the pain."

"How long will it take to prepare?" I ask as she moves to throw my dirty wrappings away. "I have a pot ready, I always take some before I sleep." I consider the offer, then tell her, "I'd love some." She quickly hands me a cup of steaming tea. I've always hated the taste of kava, but considering what it'll do I love it. I burn my tongue in my haste, but at the moment I couldn't care less. "I suppose I'm ready, lets get this over with."

I hear more than feel the healer forcing my bones back into place, a loud _crack _accompanying every time she forces one to move. After she's done readjusting my bones she begins to slowly massage the muscles into place, although it takes twice as long. As for the swelling, she tells me it'll go down once she's done healing me. First, she rubs oils and salves on my hands. I don't know why and I honestly couldn't care less, I just assume she has a reason. Next, she grasp my right hand in both of her own and starts a healing spell, although I've no idea which one.

When she releases my hand it's still injured, but not nearly as bad as it was. The swelling is gone and the fingers are mended, although my muscles are sore and I can barely twitch my thumb. She repeats the process with my other hand, although when she's done I've full control over my thumb. "That's all I can do, the rest will heal only with time. You should be able to work with your hands, just don't overdo it." The healer tells me once she's done with her work. I thank her and quickly exit her tent, no doubt Rikke's noticed my absence.

My walk to the tent is interrupted when I find a horde of merchants yelling prices, obviously desperate for customers. I walk around the makeshift market until dusk falls, buying whatever catches my fancy. A silver ring, two pounds of lamb, a shining dagger, three bottles of wine, and a jar of poison. I'm about to leave when a gleaming ring catches my attention, a wolf's head protrudes from the silver band. The merchant is silent as I look over his wares, unlike the others he doesn't tell me a price or attempt to get me to buy something I don't need.

I carefully lift the ring, show it to him, and ask, "What's this?" He looks at my hand and answers, "Ring." I bite back my sharp remark and ask, "How much?" He taps his fingers and says, "Free." My eyes widen and I ask, "Free? You can't be serious!" He cringes and says in a broken language, "Free, but you mustn't take off. Put on and give hand." I slip the ring on and hold my hand out, he traps my hand in both of his. I feel a burning sensation, although it's gone the very next second. "Done. Leave." He tells me as he begins packing. I shrug at his strange behavior and begin walking towards the tent.

When I arrive at the tent Legate Rikke is standing outside, no doubt waiting. "Dinner's almost over, I didn't see you." She says as I store my new belongings in a safe place. "I ate with the sisters." I easily lie. "Interesting, I asked their leader where you were and she said, 'Just because you can't keep track of your cat doesn't mean she's with me.'" I stop my packing, stand up, and turn to face her. "I wasn't hungry, I just spent my time in the markets." She narrows her eyes and says, "Of course, that's why a certain healer stopped by and told me to make sure you don't overdo it with your hands."

I silently curse the healer as I feel fear grip my heart. "I'm not going to force the information out of you, but I'd like to know what happened." Her eyes soften as she says, "I know you've only known me for a short amount of time, but you can trust me. Now, will you tell me what happened to your hands?" I sigh, but slowly begin relaying the story to her. When I'm done she simply remains silent and stares at me, before yanking her blade from her scabbard, storming away, and yelling over her shoulder, "Stay here if you know what's good for you. This doesn't concern you." When I begin following and saying it does she promptly says, "The only people concerned are me, the raper, and the queen's justice. Now, stay!" From her tone I can tell it's an order, so I simply watch her receding back as she marches off.

* * *

Rikke returns to the tent in the middle of the night, blood staining her blade and armor. As I rise Rikke thrust out her arms, waiting for me to untie her armor. As her armor clashes to the floor I ask her, "What happened?" She climbs into bed, rolls away from me, and answers, "Justice. Now sleep, we must ride tomorrow." I want to talk to her, but see she won't give me any answer. Giving up, I begin stripping for bed. I attempt to take off the wolf ring, but find it refuses to budge. I remember what the merchant said, apparently he meant it. I slowly climb into bed, the ring still on my finger.

I'm half conscious when I feel my arms move and push my body off the ground, as if an unseen puppeteer is yanking on my strings. Out the tent, past the prisoner's wagons, and up a grassy hill. It's only when I'm at the top of the hill I regain control of my limbs, or maybe I had control all the time and just now decided to stop. I don't know and don't particularly care, all that matters is the sky. The ring on my finger reflects the gleam of the gorgeous moon, I don't know why I never noticed the moon's true beauty before.

I crouch close to the ground, although I've no idea why. A sharp pain suddenly overtakes me, although I clench my jaw to keep from screaming. I watch as my injured hands elongate, widen, and resemble paws more than hands. I hear the rip of fabric and feel my bones break and reform. I'm not sure what's happening, but the pain becomes too much and I open my mouth to scream. The noise that rips from my throat is inhuman, the scream of an injured beast. My jaws snap together when my pain suddenly leaves me, my mouth now a wolf's muzzle.

The world's alive around me, sights and smells I've never noticed before begin making their presence known. I push myself back onto two feet, although I quickly find out I prefer four and drop back to the ground. I slowly walk in a circle, smelling for any interesting scents. Wolf, saber cat, bear. I stop my sniffing when I smell the scent I was smelling for, _prey._

My lips curl to reveal bone white fangs and slaver runs from my jaws onto the ground, the scent of prey invading my mind. I flatten myself to the ground and run after the scent, my stomach snarling with hunger. Within minutes a fat elk is in my sights, oblivious to the fact that his death is close at hand. Silent as a shadow, I leap at him with outstretched claws. Screaming, he falls to the ground and meets his demise when my fangs pierce his chest. Growling in victory, I lean down to begin my feast. Hot blood fills my mouth as I begin tearing the elk apart, his flesh ripping apart like soft bread.

Bone, meat, and hide, it makes no difference as I scarf down my dinner. When I finally stop eating all that remains is an antler and hoof, licking my lips I perk my ears when I hear a strange noise. I slowly walk towards the noise of horses, men, and metal scrapping metal. Deciding I've nothing better to do, I run as fast as I can to the location of all the noise. I see the flames of a hundred fires before me, the noise of a man cub's wailing annoying me. Snarling, I decide to quiet the dirty man cub. The cub is standing outside a pelt den, his parents inside the shelter. I stick to the shadows as I stalk closer to the cub, no need for his parents to see me.

However, my paw snaps a branch when I'm close to the cub and he notices me. His wailing turns into a scream as he calls for his parents, and they both come rushing out. Screaming in fright, the woman picks her child up and runs away as fast as she can. The man waves his arms and howls, no doubt trying to keep me from killing his mate and child. Smiling, I slowly strut towards the howling man. As I'm nearing he charges at me, his only weapon his fist. I'm not sure what he planned would happen, but I can see in his eyes he didn't think I would kill him so easily. Suddenly, a group of men in metal skins are running at me. I prepare for a fight, until I see who leads their charge.

I can't put a name to the face, but I know she's important to me. Mate? Companion? Alpha? I'm not sure what she is to me, but I know I'd regret killing her. I pick the dead man up in my mouth, let out a muffled roar, and charge off into the night. When I'm sure the men are no longer chasing me I stop, my hunger already returning. The man doesn't last nearly as long as the elk, but his flesh is by far better tasting. Licking the blood from my snout, I feel a strange tiredness overtake me. Closing my eyes, I allow my body to return to it's weaker form. Even though I'm nude I return to the camp, ignoring the far off wails of fear as I climb into bed.

* * *

I'm awoken by Rikke roughly shaking me. "What's wrong?" I ask as I get up. She doesn't bother answering, but instead tightly traps me into her arms. When she releases me I ask, "You hugged me. Did Ulfric die?" She lets out a small laugh before saying, "No. Last night, there was an incident. A werewolf slaughtered a peasant that was following the caravan, almost got his babe to. It carried the body away, no doubt to eat. The wife is in hysterics, she blames the Legion for not slaying the beast."

What she tells me sounds like something I'd remember, but all I remember is sleeping like a log last night. "The beast wasn't caught?" I ask as I dress for the day. "The coward ran when armed men came at it, apparently it only kills unarmed farmers and babes. We tried to hunt it down, but it covered too much ground. We found the remains of the peasant, a finger and eye. We just buried them there, didn't want to upset the wife. Either way, when I saw you were gone I thought you might have gone for a walk and become a midnight snack." She tells me as we pack up. As I mount Smiler I say, "Let's hope the beast finds easier prey." Legate Rikke spurs on her horse and tells me, "You said it." As we're riding I notice my hands are back to normal.


	9. Mulled Wine

"We're almost upon the next crossing, then we'll only have to cross the river once more before we arrive at Rorikstead. Only fifty of us will be able to cross before nightfall, the others will have to wait across the bridge. I hate separating our forces, but it's necessary." Rikke tells me while we ride towards the stone bridge, the soldiers five hundred feet behind us. "Don't worry, I'm sure the beast has had his fill of human flesh." I tell her as our horses trot across the decaying bridge.

"I hope you're right, the monster could slaughter half our horses before we got to it. I'm considering putting up traps, but we move every day so there's no real point. Unless the beast is trailing a day or two behind us, but if that were true it wouldn't have attacked last night. More sentinels might help, but there's only so many guards we can spare to cover the huge amount of space. The hounds yelp in fear whenever they pick up his scent, the bravest of them followed his trail for ten feet before running. We could hunt for it during the day, I've no doubt that's when it returns to its human form. But there's always the possibility we could accidentally charge an innocent man with murder, if we want a solid cause for execution we'll have to trap the beast alive. When it returns to its human form we could charge him with the crimes he's committed. Listen to me going on about this, the beast is probably down near Falkreath by now."

After Rikke's done talking I ask, "Execution? We have wagons full of rapers and murderers, and you'll kill the beast for doing what Hircine made him for?" Rikke considers what I just said before answering, "We can force the murderers and rapers to don our gear, and execute them if they prove too troublesome. The beast could never be trusted, his instincts would override his rational thought. If we needed to execute him I've no doubt he'd take thirty of us with him, if not more. The beast could only be trusted if he was chained and treated like a hound, somehow I don't think a hunter of Hircine would be fond of relying on mortals for food, water, and shelter. No, the beast can never be trusted. The only way he'll survive until the first snow is finding easier prey, lest my sword end up filling his belly."

Rikke finds a suitable location to set up camp, dismounts, and begins setting up for the night. As I put up the tent Rikke says, "You're using your hands an awful lot, they don't even appear to be injured. The healer assured me your hands were quite injured, was she mistaken?" I flex my hands while I tell her, "She said they would heal over time, I suppose it just didn't take as long as she thought. Either way, I'm happy I can use them." Rikke seems pleased to have a fully functioning squire again, at least I assume that from the tune she begins humming. "What's gotten you in such a good mood?" I ask as I start making a fire pit. "Beside the peasant dying, yesterday was great. Got to enact the queen's justice, I got a new blade, and my squire didn't end up as a midnight snack."

"Trust me, we're both glad about the last one." I tell her as I sharpen my blade. Laughing, she slaps me on the back and goes off the attend to some legion business. I can't help but sigh, the rest of the caravan is just arriving and it'll take them an hour to set up. With no merchants, hunters, or cooks on this side of the river I have nothing to amuse me. I throw my knife up in the air and catch it, a good idea until I catch it blade first and cut myself. As I examine the cut I notice a new addition to my ring, a scratch on the wolf's face.

The knife wasn't near it and I've done next to nothing all day, I don't know how it would get a scratch so early in my ownership. Shrugging, I once again try to pull the ring off. I try for a few seconds before I decide it won't budge, and decide to follow Rikke. When I find her she's talking to Nameless, and promptly starts yelling. Nameless at once screams back, the two woman yelling at each other in the middle of camp. By the time I'm there Nameless has stormed off, but Rikke still looks angered.

"What's wrong?" I ask her. "While our men where hunting the werewolf there was an incident at the camp, five of our soldiers attempted to kill one of Ygfa's sons. Apparently, he accidentally said something to offend one of the soldiers. The soldiers were ill-prepared and got slaughtered, three of them were suppose to patrol tonight. Now I have to magically produce three men for tonight's patrols." Without thinking I answer, "I could patrol, if you want me to." She considers my offer before saying, "We aren't riding very far tomorrow, so you'd be able to make up for lost sleep. If you want to patrol I see no harm in it."

I nod my head in agreement and ask, "Anything else you need done?" Rikke considers my offer and says, "Follow me." I obey her command and follow her over to a horse with a large bag tied to his back. She unties the bag and shows me the contents, bear traps. "We were going to lay these down outside Riften before our final siege, but the werewolf is a more pressing matter. We'll lay them down each night before dusk falls, and pick them up the next day. The most helpful thing you can do right now is lay them down on the east side of camp, far enough away no one will wander into them but close enough someone else can retrieve them quickly tomorrow." Given my task, I grab the bag and rush towards the east side of camp.

* * *

I'm huddled by my small fire with my hands wrapped around my sword, my watch stretching into its third hour. The moon's high in the sky, dinner is no doubt over. I envy the hundreds of men and women that are falling asleep right now, oblivious to the freezing khajiit making sure they don't die. The wind froze my blood an hour ago, I'm now shaking uncontrollably. Sighing, I rise to patrol my area once again.

As soon as my patrol is done I rush back to my dying fire, the warmth gone from my body. I hear a branch snap and draw my weapon, ready to defend the camp if I must. "Terrifying. Sheath your weapon and sit down." Rikke tells me as she appears out of the darkness. I sigh in relief and do as I'm told, feeling slightly at ease now that Rikke is with me. She pushes a steaming cup of wine into my hand and pulls out her map of Skyrim. "I thought another lesson might warm your veins." She tells me as she puts rocks on top of the map, ensuring it doesn't blow away.

"What am I learning tonight?" I ask before I slowly sip my drink, the wine tasting of spices and raisins. "How we're entering Eastmarch. Going between the mountains is too dangerous, not to mention we'll block travelers from getting through. Tell me what you think." She tells me as she attempts to fish a raisin out of her cup. "We can't go through Winterhold since it's held by the Stormcloaks, and you've already said you don't want to pass through the mountains. From Rorikstead we could go to Falkreath, that would offer a lot of advantages. They're under Imperial control, so we could rest and get new supplies. From Falkreath we could go up to Helgen, then go through the wider mountain pass straight to Riften. Of course, scouts could spot us easier and warn the jarl of Riften. And I'm certain our flanks would be attacked by soldiers from Ivarstead, but if we passed by Windhelm we'd be attacked even more. Yes, the safest path is through Falkreath."

She smiles before saying, "Good to see you're learning. As for the scouts, a dead scout can't warn the jarl. The Ivarstead guard is pathetic, they'll crumble before us. However, I'm quite curious. How do you keep making the same choices I would make? Most of the others I asked simply encouraged me to go ahead and take the smaller pass. Do you happen to have any previous military experience?" I finish my wine and tell her, "Most of the choices are common sense if you stop to look at all of the options. As for the military experience, that's a story for another time. Do you happen to have the time? I'm certain I'll catch frostbite if I don't get a better fire started."

She looks at the last embers of my dead fire and tells me, "If you're quick I'll watch your spot while you get firewood." I quickly thank her and run off to find wood, and manage to collect a few logs and twigs. When I come back Legate Rikke is shaking, and doesn't appear too happy. When she sees me she rises and says, "Start a fire, I'll be back." I quickly arrange the wood and begin striking charcoal, attempting to get a spark. By the time Rikke's back I have a decent fire started, its warmth seeping into my bones. Rikke's carrying a jingling bag, metal pot, and wooden ladle.

Without a word she hangs the pot above the fire, takes a bottle of wine from her bag, and pours it into the warming pot. "I thought some wine would chase the ice from our veins." The meaning of her words hits me and I ask, "We?" As she pours spices into the wine she says, "We, as in you and me. The gaggle of geese back at camp are driving me crazy. They're either auxiliaries who've never been in a fight boasting about the women they've bedded, or ancient tribunes telling me how I should attack Riften or charge Windhelm. Besides, you don't annoy me and I can make sure you don't become a wolf's snack."

I sit in silence and watch her prepare the wine, steam rising from the pot. Brandy, honey, sugar, cinnamon, and ginger. By the time she's done the wine is almost boiling, the perfect temperature. She removes the pot, ladles some into my cup, and fills her own stone cup. The wine is mulled and delicious, chasing the cold from my body. "We'd best be careful, too much wine and we won't know if the cold is creeping up on us or not. Losing an ear is a death sentence, won't be able to hear your commander's orders in battle."

I can't help but ask, "Do a lot of your soldiers catch frostbite?" She hesitates before answering, "A lot of the non nord soldiers do, that's why we try to keep them off guard duty. As for the nords, not usually. However, that's the thing about the cold. Even if you're a nord it can get you, its a cruel and uncaring opponent." She stops speaking and takes a long sip of her mulled wine._  
_

The rest of the night is spent sharing stories and experiences. War, family, friends, and memories. We talk about everything and nothing at all, neither of us feeling the need to push the conversation in any particular direction. As the sun rises we head back to camp, both of us are unsteady on our feet. We mount our horses and begin riding, hopefully we'll cross the last bridge today. As we ride I can't help but notice there aren't any reports of the werewolf. Watching Rikke ride beside me I think the werewolf has had enough of human prey, at least I hope so.


	10. Rorikstead

The next night I leave the tent when the moon rises, Rikke drunkenly snoring in her bed. The long day of marching took its toll on her, although we'll arrive at Rorikstead early the next day. I stalk by a sentinel while he snoozes by his fire, sticking to the shadows in case he suddenly wakes up. I find the perfect place to change, my body begging me to morph into my stronger form. The transformation is faster, although it hurts almost as much as the first time. However, I know what to expect and waste no time in beginning my hunt.

I catch the scent of dirt, man, and beer. I lick my chops while I follow the scent to the river, the smell growing stronger with each step I take. When I reach the river I crouch down, no need to let my prey spot my black pelt against the white sand banks of the river. Soon enough I spot my meal, a portly man whistling while he empties his bladder into the river. He reeks of drink and dirt, he probably assumed he'd be safe if he stayed close enough to the camp. Not to mention he wouldn't have to reveal his tiny manhood to the camp, another advantage. Curling my lips, I thank Hircine for the man's stupidity.

I slowly creep up behind the man, don't want him to scream for a sentinel and wake the whole camp. I leap in a graceful arch and slam into him, he lets out a slight yelp as he's forced to the ground. I lock my jaws around his throat, blood filling my mouth rapidly as his heart picks up the pace of its beating. Ironic, his heart is beating his life away even faster. I pull my fangs out, ripping a chunk of his neck out in an attempt to shorten his life. As he gasps and flails I begin eating, tearing his arm off at the elbow and getting in a comfortable position to feast. Within seconds the man is dead, his arm already eaten.

It takes me a good hour to finish eating the portly man, and he tastes like mud and sweat. But it's a decent meal, and not a bad first kill for the night. I catch the scent of roasting meat, my mouth waters at the idea of pork and lamb. I already have a good idea of where the scent will lead me, which is why I'm surprised when it leads me to a sentinel's fire instead of the main herd. The sentinel is easy work, she's halfway through a case of ale and doesn't even realize what's happening until I've torn her throat out. I quickly devour the young woman, her youthful flesh strikingly different from the dirty man. After I'm done with my second meal I turn towards her fire, spiced meat hanging over the flames.

I rip the pork, lamb, and horse meat from the spit over the fire, slaver running from my jaws as the scent invades my nose. The meat last only a few short minutes, but the taste is better than even the young sentinel. I've eaten my own weight in meat and human flesh, but somehow my hunger has returned. I sniff until I find an interesting scent, horses. From the smell there's a lot of them, at least I hope so. I bolt towards the horses and smell for a horse farther away from the others, if they all smelled me they'd no doubt raise the alarm. I easily find the group of horses, far away from the camp so they can graze, crap, and screw in peace. A black stallion and white mare are noisily copulating a ways away from the herd.

I creep closer to the horses, both oblivious in their throes of pleasure. I wait for just the perfect moment, and it soon arrives. The stallion throws his head back and roars in pleasure, and screams in pain when my jaws clamp around his neck. Blood spurts from his neck and splatters the mare, me, and the grass around us. The mare roars in terror and attempts to run, only to find herself stuck to the dying stallion. I twist around and quickly silence the mare, hoping the other horses don't spook at the sound of their dying comrades.

Thankfully the horses are concerned, but not enough they're going to begin screaming. Considering the noise the horses were making, any camp members will simply think the horses got roughly separated or the mare decided to bolt halfway through. When no soldiers come to investigate I begin eating, the taste of horse like skooma after a ten-year break. I try to finish my meal, but when I'm done the head of the stallion and half of the mare remain untouched. I clean my fur and wait for my body to take its weaker form, then I slowly walk back to camp.

Everyone stares at the naked khajiit stumbling through camp, but none dare say a thing to me. I climb into bed and fall asleep to the gentle sound of Rikke snoring, a comforting and familiar sound. I hear a scream outside and the sound of a large group of people charging by our tent. I ignore the noise and fall asleep, not even bothering to clean the sweat from my body.

* * *

I'm woken up by the shrill scream of a woman and the sound of twenty men charging by my tent, what are they doing today that they couldn't do last night? I slowly dress and step outside, when I spot a large group of people by the horses I make my way over to them. I push my way through the crowd to the front, shouting 'Imperial business' at anyone who dares try to push back. When I reach the center I nearly vomit, the dead stallion's one remaining eye staring straight at me.

Blood stains the ground, stallion's head, and the mare's snowy coat. On closer inspection I realize the mare is the same one Legate Rikke usually rides and the stallion is the same one I bought near Solitude. At least I think they are, it's hard to tell when they're chewed on. No doubt Rikke will be upset that her horse is dead, she told me last night she was the last foal her father breed and raised. I can't help but pity the werewolf, Rikke will make his pelt into a blanket after this insult.

As if she heard my thoughts Legate Rikke appears, practically picking me up and yanking me out of the crowd. I'm shoved onto Smiler as she mounts a tan stallion, she tells me one simple command before riding away, "Follow." I charge after her and think _she gives that command an awful lot._ Within minutes I see the back of her horse, but it takes another hour before I'm beside her, and by then we're almost to Rorikstead.

When she notices me she slows down, her horse barely walking. "Care to explain?" I ask her. She sighs, but says, "The second I woke up I had fifty men yelling at me about werewolves. It killed a merchant, guard, and two horses. The horses are easily replaced, and one of the sisters stepped up for guard duty. The merchant's giving us the most trouble, he owed twenty whores over a hundred thousand in gold when he died. Unlike the peasant's wife they don't care about promises of future gold and titles, they want their gold now that the old fool's dead. I considered having them all assassinated, but even a fool would be able to tell why they died. I gave the whores a small portion of money out of my own pocket, promising to pay them the rest later. They seem appeased, for now."

"But my biggest problem is the fact the werewolf is still tailing us, the soldiers and peasants alike are shaking in fear. Unlike foes on the battlefield werewolves don't stand on equal ground, it's like a rabbit taking on a dragon. The entire caravan is terrified, but no real panic has set in. Thank the nine for that at least. A few of the merchants and peasants have turned tail and are running back to Solitude, if an animal doesn't kill them the snow will. Speaking of which, the first snow fell on Solitude. If the runner from Tullius can be trusted, which I know he can. The snow will reach us in three days, nothing too bad. But I still don't like the idea of the snow coming, it means things will only get harder and we'll need more supplies."

"Also, we can't go through Rorikstead. I decided it'd be faster if the main of our caravan marched around it, but we still need supplies. Which is where you come in, ten soldiers and twenty sisters will be arriving in Rorikstead shortly after us. They'll bring all of our wagons and horses, which we'll load down with supplies." I can see Rorikstead, warm fires burning in the distance. "We'll return to camp with all the supplies we can, then we'll strike out for Falkreath. Then w-" She cuts off as we enter Rorikstead, a flayed body on a wooden pole in the middle of the road greeting us.

"No." Rikke whispers as we ride further into the city, the village now a smoking graveyard. Two cows lay in their pen, one has its intestines spilling out of its stomach like a thousand snakes. The other is chopped in half, the work of a broadsword no doubt. A few goats and chickens are scattered around the village, all with their heads plucked off. The animals are horrible, but the people are even worse.

The flayed man must have had a more terrible death than his fellow villagers, but each new body seems to be more gruesome than the last. Every body we pass in naked, stripped of valuables. An elderly man is nailed above the door to the inn, a wolf's tail nailed to his chest. Halfway through the town two bodies lay in the middle of the road, tied together and charred beyond recognition. In an empty field lay two figures, the blood staining the ground around them. The man has been strangled with his own intestines, the woman has at least ten arrows protruding from her body. In the field across the street only one body is in it, an elderly man with a broken sword blade coming out of his belly while three arrows pierce his head.

"Tie the horses to that fence, look for survivors or supplies. When the men and sisters get here we'll bury the dead, and burn the rest of the town to ashes." I stay close to Rikke while we search, the town's tiny and two eyes looking at the same thing may find objects or people quicker. "Who did this?" I ask her as we examine the inn. "A few months ago a insane commander of ours charged Kynesgrove with three men who stayed loyal to him, managed to kill five of their guard and a citizen before an arrow found his skull. No doubt Ulfric knew an Imperial march was headed here, and what better way to send a message than to slaughter a village of unarmed farmers right before an army marched through? I would have written it off as bandits, if now for the wolf tail in Rorik's chest. And, " She yanks a piece of blue cloth from the woman's dead fingers, she turns it over until half of a bears face is visible, "this. The fires are still burning, so they couldn't have gotten far. After the dead are buried we'll try to find them, but don't expect us to. Now, stop huddling behind me and go check that house."

I slowly slink off, disgusted at the bodies around me. I push on the wooden door to the house, and cringe as it falls inside. I step inside and take a look around, the house empty expect a pile of rags in the corner. I don't consider rags supplies, but we may need them to wipe Stormcloak blood from our blade. As I approach the rags I hear a strange noise, like a dog afraid he's about to be kicked. I yank the cloth away, and hear the small girl underneath scream as she tries to force her way further into the corner. Instinctively I pull her into my arms, lying to her that it's alright and it'll be okay. She barely calms down, but I manage to heave her into my arms and walk outside and towards Rikke. "I found her sister behind the inn eavesdropping on our conversation, ran when she saw me. She's running towards our reinforcements, they'll hold her. If they don't get her well, if the Imperial Legion can't hunt down a child then I'll resign. Lets try to calm her, she's been through so much. And for Akatosh sake, get her away from the bodies!" I was walking towards the inn, unknowingly taking her closer to Rorik's dead body.

I quickly turn, find a path clear of destruction, and run out of town with the crying girl in my arms. I sit her down on a grassy hill, Rorikstead is barely out of view. Although I suppose out of view is still out of view. The girl is splatter in blood, her hands are burned, and it looks like she's soiled herself in fear. The girl is obviously terrified of me still, but she doesn't try to bolt like her sister. I don't know how to calm a child, but I do know how to ramble, "My name is, well my name isn't important. I'm more interested in you, what's your name?" She doesn't answer so I continue, "Your hands are hurt, I know a healing spell that'll fix minor burns and scratches." She doesn't say a word, but she offers me her hands.

I examine them, and sigh in relief when I see they're only minor burns. I use the spell on her, and watch as her hands fix themselves. Her hands are quickly healed, but she yanks her hands close to her once I release them. I don't know what to do next, so I decide to keep talking, "I use to have a daughter, you remind me of her." At this she whispers, "How?" I smile and say, "She had eyes like dark caramel, just like her father. If I'm being honest I'm glad she had his eyes, blue eyes on a khajiit never look good. And her fur was silky and looked like autumn leaves, I'm glad she got that from me. Her father had fur like mud, and it felt like wool." I sigh and wait for her to speak, I'm not disappointed. "She sounds pretty, tell me more." She's slightly opened up and is staring at me with curious eyes, no doubt wondering about the beast race of Skyrim. I smile as I tell her more, glad to have calmed her down.

"She had my body, one meant for crouching in wait for her prey. Her father always hoped she'd be a runner like him, but he had a hunch she'd be like me. She got her fur pattern from me, but had a mane like her father. The other children might have made fun of her for it, if she hadn't inherited my wicked claws. When she was little she'd pretend to be a lion, she'd roar and chase her brother around like he was a deer. Of course, he got bigger and eventually decided he wanted to be the lion." I let out a slight laugh and say, "You should have seen her face the first time he chased her, looked like he'd just kicked her puppy." Suddenly my story's cut off by the girl screaming and clutching onto me. I turn and see Rikke standing ten feet away, the town behind her aflame. "We've buried the dead, torched the town, found the other sister, and the Stormcloaks were dumb enough to run into our main host. Come on, the girls will be delivered to our tent tonight." I hand the girl to one of the sisters, our reinforcements having arrived while Rikke was talking.

Rikke and I mount and begin riding while the sisters and soldiers hang back to lay a few flowers on the graves of the dead, all of them are no doubt horrified at the memory of the dead bodies. "You did well with the little girl." Rikke tells me. I nod and say, "How long were you eavesdropping?" She laughs and answers, "I came in around the time you started healing her hands, interesting story by the way." She waits a few seconds and says, "So, you have children?" My heart throbs in pain and I tell her, "Once, a long time ago in a different place." She doesn't seem to know what to say so she ask, "You were married?" I laugh and say, "No. What's wrong? I can practically hear your brow furrowing. Khajiit have temporary mates, not marriages. Mates can stay together for life, but it's rare. Now mates with children are another story, they usually stay together until death." She pauses and says, "You are one curious woman, I'll have to learn more about you." I smile and say, "I think I'd like that."


	11. Questions

I've never seen a more beautiful sight, the red of blood staining the Stormcloak's blue armor. There were seventeen of them, Ulfric sent seventeen men to slaughter a village of peasants. The fools were dumb enough to charge the main caravan in hopes of cutting Rikke's throat, only she was five miles away when they hit the caravan. Only one Imperial soldier died in the charge, a young lad foolish enough to get in front of Legate Erica when he was swinging his blade at a Stormcloak. Of course the bodies needed to be looted and protected, in case someone attempts to defile them. As Legate Rikke said, "We're not bandits or forsworn.".

Any other legate would send grunts to examine the bodies, but Legate Rikke insisted she stay behind and do it herself. Well most of it, she's brought three men to take the stuff back to camp."Fine weapons and decent armor, both will need to be cleaned and repaired though. They have a few plain tunics on them, I suppose we can give those to some of the poorer peasants. They hardly have gold, but some gold is better than no gold at all. The general was carrying orders to slaughter Rorikstead to send us a message, and kill any high ranking officials they could get their hands on. Ironic, they failed both of their task." Her words have me confused and I ask, "It seems they did their job at Rorikstead, how did they fail?" She laughs and answers, "Two little girls, they couldn't catch two little girls. One of them simply ran so I can understand not chasing her, but the other simply _hid __under a blanket! _It's pathetic! Now come on, it's dark and those two little girls in question and a nice meal will be waiting for us at our tent." I take one last look at the naked corpses before turning Smiler around and riding after Rikke.

* * *

We quickly enter the tent, our tent is slightly away from camp that night. Rikke said it was in case the werewolf or any Stormcloaks attacked, how our tent being far away helps I don't know, but I don't like questioning Rikke. The children are huddled together on one side of the table when we enter the tent, both look at us with wide eyes. Rikke simply flops down on the other side of the table and begins tearing into her food, not even bothering to look at the girls. I offer a shy smile before sitting down to eat, neither of the girls bother to return my smile. It's only after I swallow a slice of pork I realize the girls aren't eating. "What's wrong with your food?" I try to keep my accent out of my voice, no need to frighten them anymore. The one who ran off says, "Poison." This gets Rikke's attention and she snarls, "I'm a trained legionnaire, if I wanted you dead your body would already be cold. Besides, poison is a cowards weapon. I'd simply slit your throat or shoot you in the back while you ran from me."

Both of the girls look more terrified than ever, all my hard work with the one in pink was just destroyed. I lightly punch Rikke in the arm and say, "Don't listen to her, I won't let her touch a hair on your head. Now, to prove it's not poisoned." I rip off a tiny bit of each of their bread and eat it, hopefully they'll believe me. They must, for they both begin tearing at their food like starved wolves. After we're all done eating I ask, "Would you two mind telling me your names?" The one in pink shakes her head, but the one in green straightens her back and says, "I'm Britte and this is my sister Sissel." I smile and tell them, "Such pretty names to match the pretty girls who have them. Would you two like a bath?" They both nod and allow me to take their hands, I quickly led them over to the bathes.

Once the girls are clean and wearing new tunics I take them back to the tent, both yawning and telling me they want to go to bed. I manage to find a sleeping bag for myself, the children will have to share my cot. Rikke mumbles about letting them take my stuff, but laughs and forgets it when I flatten my ears and pretend to swat at her like an angry cat. The floor is uncomfortable, but definitely isn't a place for young girls to sleep.

* * *

I'm awoken halfway through the night by two warm bodies trying to fight their way into my sleeping bag, the sound of a raging storm outside. I'm not sure what's going on, but I climb out of the sleeping bag and lay on top of it. The two girls force my arms up so the can lay beside me with their heads resting on my shoulder, one has a thick goatskin blanket in her hand. The blanket is laid across all three of us to help keep some of the cold out. I attempt to go to sleep, but the heat of the bodies beside me quickly makes me too hot to fall asleep. I sigh and close my eyes as the hours drag by, the two children beside me fast asleep and oblivious to the fact they're disrupting my sleep.

The storm subsides, but I don't bother waking the girls. When morning comes Legate Rikke rises, and laughs at the sight of her squire trapped between two children. After she's done laughing she wakes the girls, they both grumble but dress themselves in some plain wool tunics, breeches, and shoes. As I put Rikke's armor on her I make a mental note to buy them some winter clothes for all four of us before the snow catches up with us. We all go out to find an open campfire to eat breakfast, for once Rikke follows me to sit by the sisters. They all quite when Rikke sits down, but begin cooing when they see Britte and Sissel.

Breakfast is a rather boring event, the most interesting thing is a stray dog nibbling some of Sissel's bacon. Sissel giggles and continues feeding the hound, but stops when Rikke grumbles about encouraging strays. "We need to begin marching, what do you plan on doing with the girls?" Rikke ask after she's finished her porridge. I consider the options and tell her, "Nameless would gladly watch them and return them to us at the end of the day." Rikke nods and begins walking towards her new stallion. I quickly drop the girls off with Nameless, mount Smiler, find Rikke, and blow the war horn to begin the march.

When we're far ahead of the soldiers Rikke ask me,"Why do you always sit with the sisters at breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Some of the higher ranking soldiers have been talking, they're starting to think you prefer those savages to us." Her words confuse me, while many about the soldiers think of the sisters as savages I've never heard Rikke talk of them in such a way. "They aren't savages, and I just enjoy them." Rikke's face hardens and she says, "They're still the savages you met, only now they don't threaten to kill you. Some of them call you a hero, but very few actually think you are. Most think of Nameless as the true hero, you were simply the person helping her. They call you a hero in hopes of pleasing you, and hope that pleasing you will please Nameless."

"When you first entered their hall you were lowly prey, even now some of them would gladly slit your throat. All of them consider you lower than them, even Nameless. Most of them think of you as a stray cat that's taken to them, and think of themselves as your generous owner." I consider her words and say, "Nameless has always been kind to me, well that's a lie. She's been a little kinder since she killed her mother. The others, well they're just like all of your lessors that suck up to you in hopes of rising in ranks. Truly, you can't blame them for that." This seems to anger Rikke because she snarls, "I can understand forgiving the sisters, a few of them truly enjoy your companionship and the others simply have no opinion. In truth hardly any of them truly despise you, and those are usually the ones that were happy before Nameless took over. However, Nameless is a filthy dog who thinks with her cunt instead of her brains."

My anger flares and I force myself to calmly say, "Nameless has shown me great kindness by-" I'm cut off by Rikke snapping her horsewhip and snarling, "By what!? Not taking you as a trail wife!? I know very well what Nameless does if someone doesn't comply with her! I've lost countless soldiers and squires to her! Do you wish to know what she did after you were whipped?" Her voice drops and she stops yelling. I weakly nod and she says, "While you were on your cot bleeding and moaning in pain and I was asleep she attempted to enter the tent without me knowing, but tripped and almost fell on top of me. When I asked what she was doing she simply told me she was claiming what was rightfully hers, she planned on stealing you away in the middle of the night and forcing you to marry her. Keep in mind she planned on consummating the marriage, whether you wanted it or not."

I don't know how to react to what I've just been told, so I simply sit mutely on Smiler in shock. Rikke slowly rides closer to me and pulls the hood down from my face, her eyes soften and she says, "I let Nameless watch the girls today in a show of good faith, but I don't trust her. I know it'll be hard, but you must accept the truth. They aren't like you, they consider you a lower being. They're savages and half of them would gladly kill you and make you a blanket, the only difference is the other half would rape you before they slit your throat. You belong with the soldiers and me, remember where your loyalties lay. I'm sorry for my anger earlier, truly. It's not you I'm cross with, I just fear you'll end up getting hurt. Now come on, we need to get a move on." And with that she kicks her horse into a run. I watch her ride ahead of me, my mind a tangle of questions and fears.


	12. A Nameless Terror

We ride all day and into the night, but when we stop to camp we've only gone ten miles. "It'll get better, I'm sending soldiers down the line tomorrow to get the caravan moving." Rikke tells me as we set up to tent, the children ran off an hour ago to go play in the market. "We can't let Britte and Sissel stay with us, don't make that face you know it's true! They need a mother to raise them, not two veteran warriors who'll never be around. Besides, what would we do with them after the march is over?" Rikke tells me as we finish hammering in the final poles. I sigh and say, "I know you're right, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. Any ideas on who'll raise them? I'd like to check up on them every once in a while, to make sure they're doing okay." Rikke stretches and answers, "How about the peasant that watched her husband get ripped apart by the werewolf? If she won't take them we can always search around for a qualified mother. If worst comes to worst we can find a prostitute who isn't sleazy enough to use little girls to make a little more coin.

I consider our options and say, "The peasant doesn't seem like a bad idea, we'd have easy access to her and would know if the girls are being mistreated. I don't think there are any qualified mothers in the caravan, and every prostitute in here would gladly use them for their own personal gain. Honestly, I don't think anyone in the entire caravan could properly raise them. Could the children sleep with us? I think it would put their minds at ease. And, I'm sure one of your generals would gladly watch them during the day." Rikke considers what I said and answers, "They can continue to sleep in our tent, I think they've taken to you. However, they'll take their meals and march with Legate Effile. She's ancient and as fierce as a sleeping lion, her prime has come and gone. The children might feel at ease around an older woman, and I've no doubt she'll treat them like they were her own. Sound good to you?" A grin splits my face and I tell her, "Sounds lovely. Now come on, I'm starving!"

I instinctively begin walking towards the sisters, but stop when Rikke clears her throat behind me. I quickly scurry over to Rikke, a few of the sisters notice my behavior and give me strange looks. I follow Rikke to a campfire where only a few soldiers are eating, none of them pay us any mind as we fill our bowls with brown rice. We eat in silence, both of us are too famished from the riding to do anything but wolf down our dinner. When the cooking pot is empty we silently rise and return to our tent, my stomach still growling even though I devoured three bowls of rice. "I have guard duty tonight. Also, the girls can't stay with you tonight, I forgot to tell you I sent them to a healer to be examined for injures or illness." Rikke tells me as she slips into her heavier armor. "Why?" I ask as I untie my boots. "To make sure they didn't have any internal injuries she demanded to keep them for further observation over the night." I sigh and crawl into my cot, my stomach snarling in hunger. "Whatever, night." I mumble as Rikke pushes her way out of the tent.

* * *

My stomach roars in hunger, even after I've taken my stronger form. I don't remember sneaking out of the camp and changing, all I remember is the unbearable hunger gnawing at my core. Even now it's driving me insane, I have to find food. I catch a whiff of my weaker cousins, I instantly begin running towards them. I easily find the wolves tearing at the carcass of a mammoth, from the smell of it the mammoth has been dead for some time. I let out a low growl as a warning to my weaker brethren, all but one shy away from the kill. The grey on his muzzle shows he's a seasoned alpha, and his answering growl shows his bravery. With a snarl I pounce on him and sink my teeth into his ear, no need to kill him over a little meat. He yelps but holds his ground, clawing at my chest in a desperate attempt to throw me off. After a few seconds I release his ear, and bite down on his hind leg. He lets out a howl and quickly rolls onto his back, finally admitting he's been bested.

I lunge for the half rotten mammoth and begin feasting, my brethren whimpering as they watch me devour their food. I eat my fill and back away, allowing the wolves to eat my leftovers. The mammoth was filling, but I can feel my stomach churn as the rotten meat settles. I find a stream to drink from, the water slightly easing my stomach. I have nothing better to do than find a nice grassy hill to lounge on, the moon brightly shining down on me. I push myself up and throw my head back, letting a deep howl escape my throat. I wait for an answering howl I know will never come, my weaker cousins don't even bother to respond out of fear. I resume my lounging, an empty feeling settling over me. Am I the only beast around here? Am I truly alone?

It's only then I remember I'm not alone, I remember the woman who led the charge against me when I tried to kill that baby. I'm still not sure if she's my equal, companion, or alpha. All I know is that she's important to me and I consider her my pack member. The last time I saw her she was surrounded by her snarling lessors, but she should be alone tonight. How I know she's alone I don't know, but I don't bother questioning it as I begin trying to find her scent. When I find her scent I feel my heart speed up as I bolt towards her, my stomach clenching as the mammoth is jostled around in my stomach.

When I see the flame of her fire I slow down, carefully making sure she can't see me. She's huddled by her fire, furs covering her entire body. I flatten my body to the ground and slink towards her, anxious about how she'll react when she sees me. She reacts how I think she will, she grasps her sword and takes her fighting stance. I notice she's looking at a goat's horn by my foot, I've a feeling if she gets it she'll call for her lessors. Snarling, I pick the horn up in my jaws and snap it in half. She can yell as loud as she can, nobody will hear her calls. I know she's a seasoned warrior, and could easily kill me. With that in mind I slowly circle her, unaware of why she hasn't struck yet.

Silently, she slashes at me with her sword. I catch the metal in my jaws, and bite down until I hear the steel snap in my mouth. She releases her sword and begins backing away from me. I spit the broken sword out and slowly walk towards the now weaponless woman, and smile when her boot catches on a rock and she falls. How do I make her understand I mean no harm? I lower my tail and rise from my crouch, hoping to look less intimidating. I walk towards the woman, who seems to understand I mean no harm. At least she isn't screaming or fighting. I'm a foot away when she raises her hand to my head, stroking in between my eyes. I slowly allow my eyelids to close and breath a sigh of relief, until her hidden dagger slams into my shoulder.

Roaring in pain, I flip around and charge off into the night in a blind rage. The woman is now screaming, although I can't hear her words. I find a quite place to hide, my shoulder throbbing in pain. The dagger's out, but it still hurts. I feel myself changing, and for once I'm glad. My shoulder's already healed itself, but I've no doubt it'll still cause me trouble in the morning. Moaning, I stumble my way back to the camp and into bed.

* * *

My shoulder throbs as I push myself off my cot, but I ignore it and quickly make my way to breakfast. I fall down besides Rikke, who's tense as a bowstring. "What's gotten in to you? Speaking of which, what's gotten into everyone?" I ask once I notice everyone seems tense. Rikke quickly rises and pulls me away from the campfire before answering, "The werewolf attacked last night, well in a way. It didn't hurt anyone, but it broke my sword. I was the only one who saw it, it didn't appear to anyone else." Before she can say anything else I ask, "What did it do?" She pauses and says, "It just came up and broke my war horn and sword, then it just slowly walked up to me. I wasn't sure what it wanted or if it was simply toying with me, so I stroked it between the eyes. It sort of closed it's eyes and relaxed, then I stabbed it and it ran away like a scamp out of Oblivion. Haven't seen it since."

"Weird, maybe it just wanted to get close before killing you. Either way, I'm glad you weren't hurt." I snap my eyes away from her when I realize what I just said. Rikke smiles and says, "I'm just happy nobody was hurt, now come on we have to ride. I'm going to go get a new sword." I nod and run towards Smiler, but stop when I see a figure leaning against him.

"Beautiful creature." Nameless says as she strokes Smiler's mane. "Thank you." I squeak out before I say, "I need to prepare for today's riding, move." With a laugh Nameless leans closer and says, "Is the kitty a little upset? Did she not sleep well last night? You heard what happened to Rikke last night, didn't you? Interesting, isn't it?" I have no idea what she's talking about, and I tell her so. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, now move!" A grin splits her face and she says, "You really don't know, do you? Cute." I flatten my ears and snarl, _"Move!" _Nameless laughs and says, "That's not a nice way to ask for something," She reaches out and runs her index finger along my jaw, "is it?" I shake in rage and tell her, "Rikke told me what you tried to do on the night I was whipped!" Her grin disappears and she snarls, "So the cat finally realized what was going on, about time. _Listen!" _She says as her hand clenches around my jaws. "I'll take what's mine. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. But trust me, _I will take what is rightfully mine!_ Now if you'll excuse me."

She disappears just as Rikke reaches me, "Come on, we have to go!" Rikke tells me as she kicks her stallion forward. As we ride Rikke leans over and ask, "Was I right to stab the werewolf?" I hesitate and say, "If it didn't mean you harm, no. If it did, yes." She considers my words and says, "I think I'd like to catch the beast, find out who it is." I absently nod as I think of Nameless's threat, surely she didn't mean it. But I can't stop the fear from growing inside of me as I think of the next time Rikke's on guard duty, and I'm all alone.


	13. Fort Sungard

Rikke was right when she said the caravan would pick up speed, when night falls we've traveled twenty miles. Everyone seems pleased with the speed we're traveling besides Rikke, when I asked what she thought she shrugged and said, "I would have liked to ride five miles farther, but I fear the horses are tired." I don't know how soon she plans to get the Falkreath, but in all honesty we probably won't arrive any time soon. As soon as the horses are tied I join Rikke at her campfire, but I'm forced to sit away from her because of the thanes and legates swarming around her. I hardly touch my dinner and simply allow my mind to wander, thankful for the free time. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Rikke tapping my leg with her boot, the swarm of people apparently left while my mind wandered.

"One of the soldiers turned craven and ran, we've caught him and he's currently chained up with the prisoners. Unfortunately he was on guard duty, and you've already been a guard once. Care to earn some extra coin and guard the north flank tonight? " I let out a deep sigh and say, "May as well." Rikke nods approvingly and offers me her hand. After Rikke yanks me up I quickly grab some wine and make my way over to my station, a deep chill already settling in my bones. When I arrive at my post I find a fire pit already built, filled with wood, and waiting to be lit. No doubt it was Rikke's doing, although I'm grateful no matter who built it. I start a fire with my flame spell and take a swig of my wine. Sighing, I sit down and prepare for a long night.

* * *

It's well past midnight when Rikke appears out of the darkness with a cooking spit her right hand, a pot in her left, and a bag slung over her back. "I thought you could use some company, and I needed to get away from those children." She tells me as she sets up the cooking spit, the cold metal slowing warming above the fire. "What were the kids doing to annoy you?" I ask as I stretch my arms. "They were both snoring and keeping me awake, although there's more than one reason I can't fall asleep." She tells me as she pours some wine into the warmed pot. "What are the other reasons?"

She sits down and says, "Problems, I just got horrible reports from my legates. One of them reported a group of bandits have been tailing us for three days and are preparing to strike, and of course she just now decided to tell me! Another reported seeing a Stormcloak riding away from us, no doubt with information on our movements. Related to that, apparently Fort Sungard has been taken over by rebels. The fort was inhabited by forsworn not three weeks ago, but now it has fifteen rebels garrisoning it. Finally, there are reports of a spy in our midst." I lean over to add some raisins to the wine before asking, "Fifteen doesn't seem like a very large number, and a small group of soldiers could backtrack to Fort Sungard and the soldiers who don't remain to garrison could be back within two days. Why not take the fort?" Rikke laughs and says, "No legate wants to leave the march, and if I leave the soldiers might lose heart and decided to abandon the march."

Suddenly an idea occurs to me, an idea that'll probably end in my death. "You know, most of the soldiers know me as your squire. And, surely a squire of a legate must have some experience, right? A legate doesn't have to lead a small group of soldiers to capture a small fort, a squire could easily lead the charge." Rikke stops stirring the wine and says, "Are you volunteering to lead the capture of Fort Sungard?" I quickly begin stirring the wine and say, "I'm just telling you the facts. However, if tomorrow morning you told me a group of soldiers are waiting at the west flank for me, I would be prepared." Legate Rikke smiles before pouring herself some wine, no doubt planning for tomorrow.

* * *

I yawn as I make my way back to my tent, my guard duty just now ending. The soldiers are getting ready to march and the wagons are being loaded, even the prisoners are preparing for the march by screaming their contempt at anyone who will listen. I'm greeted by Rikke holding a strange horse's reins, she was forced to leave early last night when a courier came with dire news. What that news is I never found out, the courier simply whispered in her ear and ran away. "West flank, hurry. I didn't want you riding Smiler, he might end up hurt if he went into battle." Rikke tells me as she forces the reins into my hand. When I'm mounted she grasps my leg and says, "Please, be careful. Usually I wouldn't be so concerned about my squire, but for some reason I don't wish to see you harmed. Just watch your back, those rebels will fight like cornered rats." Before I can respond she slaps the horse on the rump, and I'm forced to hang on as he charges towards the west flank.

The group of soldiers waiting for me is pathetic, even by my standards. Ten men stand before me, but all of them have problems. Five are older than my grandfather, one hasn't even entered manhood, and the last four are quartermasters. All ten are on foot, but their arms and armor look decent enough. "Is everyone present and prepared?" I ask the quartermaster closest to me. "Yes, ma'ma. Only, Legate Rikke told us to armor your horse." The other quartermasters move forward and I notice the large sacks in their hands. "Dismount and we'll do the rest." I quickly slide off of the stallion and allow the quartermasters to go to work, within minutes he is covered in gleaming steel. I quickly remount and tell the soldiers, "Follow me as best you can, but don't kill yourselves." When they line up I quickly kick the stallion and begin riding towards Fort Sungard, nervous anticipation boiling in my stomach.

* * *

I arrive at the fort a little after noon, but it takes three hours before my men arrive. I allow them a small rest before yelling, "Shield wall, two lines. Worst fighters in the middle. Run from battle and I'll break your knees when I catch you, then you'll never run again." The men quickly follow my orders, my threat hanging in their head. The first line has the young man in the center, two of the older men flanking him, and two of the quartermasters guarding the ends. The second line is made up of three of the older men in the middle, the quartermasters once again guard the ends. Each soldier in the front line puts the right side of his shield over the left side of his neighbor's shield, forming an impenetrable wall. The soldiers in the second line put their shields above their head, protecting the men in front of them and themselves from arrows. Our small force can easily be flanked, but the Stormcloaks prefer to fight head on. I urge my horse in front of them, planning on leading the charge. The rebels haven't noticed us, but they will soon.

I yank the war horn from my belt, announce our presence, and trot my horse forward. The rebels are quick to fire arrows at us, but none of the arrows hit their marks. The rebels soon realize our tactics, and begin aiming for me. A clever tactic, kill the officer and hope the men break. The arrows clink off my armor, and soon enough we're walking underneath the stone arch and entering the fort. _Fifteen men! _That's what Legate Rikke said, not the thirty or so men that pour down the stairs to charge at us. "Abandon shield wall, attack!" It's obvious from the looks they give me the soldiers think I'm crazy, but none dare run.

The soldiers quickly fall into line beside me, the Stormcloaks all gathered in the courtyard to fight. I yank my sword from my sheath, the first wave of soldiers upon us. My horse spooks, rears, and kills the first soldier by smashing his head in, I curse my horse and force him back down. The soldiers attack, forming around me to protect me and my horse. Three rebels fall while the oldest of my men fails to get his shield up in time and takes an ax to the head. "Damn it! Stop defending, start fighting! MOVE!" My horse forces his way through the soldiers and into the rebels, my sword arm already prepared.

The rebels swarm around me and begin attempting to yank me off my horse. My horse is spooked and fighting to get away, but I continue kicking him and forcing him to push through the rebels. The soldiers follow behind me as I clear a path into the heart of the rebel forces, attacking every enemy they see. I use my sword like a spear and stab at any rebel I can reach, each blow slitting a throat or severing a limb. By the time I'm on the other side of the throng I've killed at least four rebels, and my men have killed at least three. I turn my horse around to look at the carnage, and regret it almost instantly. Three of my men have fallen, and the organization of the battle has long gone away. Each soldier is fighting at least two rebels, and six rebels are charging at me. I take out two of the men before the tide turns, and I soon find myself in trouble.

They're attacking from all sides, and my horses is terrified. The woman on my right quickly jumps onto my rearing horse, using my shoulder as a handhold and stirrup as a foothold. She quickly slams her mace down on my wrist as I begin to raise my sword, and I can't hold back my scream as my wrist _crunches _and my sword falls from my grasp. The woman laughs as she pulls back my helm for the killing blow, my helm rips and a jagged piece of metal protrudes from the werewolf hide. An animal like rage overtakes me, how dare my _prey _attempt to kill me! She wears a hide helm, making it all the easier for me to sink my teeth into her neck. I curse as she screams, still very much alive. My teeth are meant for chewing curd, not for tearing flesh from bone. However, the woman falls off my horse and begins thrashing in pain. It's obvious from her wounds she'll bleed to death. Good enough.

My horse looses it and kicks wildly behind him, from the crunching sound he just killed another soldier. The man on my left attempts to repeat what his dying comrade just did, but when he climbs onto my horse I quickly yank my dagger from my boot and stab him in the face. My knife breaks at the hilt, but the dead man falls to the ground. I revel in my victory, until I hear my horse scream as the soldier in front of him smashes his skull in. My dead horse falls to the side, and I'm trapped beneath his dead body. The woman who killed him calmly walks up to me, her mace pointed at me. "Yield." She says as I crawl from beneath my dead steed, my left leg screaming in agony. I lower my head, making sure her mace is lower before I charge. She screams as the twisted metal stabs through her armor and into her soft belly, although it pales in comparison to the scream she lets out when I begin shaking my head wildly.

Her mace comes down on my shoulder and back five times before she falls dead, the metal finally puncturing her lung. I collapse on her bleeding corpse, too exhausted and injured to move. I force my head to turn and look at the battle. _No. _Five of my remaining men have fallen, and seven rebels are hammering away at the surviving soldier. The soldier is the boy who hasn't even entered manhood, he's currently trapped between the rebels and a broken stone pillar. "NO-ROAR!" My armor rips as my body changes, and I'm dimly aware of the soldiers stopping their fighting and screaming. The blood, screams, and wounds are too much for me. I charge at the rebels, all of them prepared for a fight. Three quickly die by my claws slashing at them, the lone Imperial Soldier has clambered onto the broken stone pillar. Two of the rebels run away in fright, but two stand and fight. I grasp on and fling him as far as I can, his neck breaking when he hits the stonewall of the fort. The other soldier quickly dies when I pin him to the ground and rip out his throat.

The two remaining rebels have only gone a hundred feet from the fort when I catch them, both quickly dying when I use my claws to tear their spines from their backs. _That's what they get for running. _I quickly make my way back to the fort, the soldier fell off of his stone perch. It's no surprise, his left arm stops at the elbow. I'm dimly aware the humans in red were my pack members, along with the dying man in front of me. He sees me and weakly flails, so I stop ten feet away from him. His focus soon turns somewhere else, his eyes becoming blind as he begins his journey to Sovngarde. When death claims him I throw my head back and let out a lone howl in mourning, for him and all of my fallen brethren. My body is worn out and exhausted, and soon I'm in my weaker form. My leg and back scream in pain, but I force myself to stand and look around the fort.

I'm dimly aware the battle is over, although I expected the rebels to win and to be captured or killed. Well we didn't exactly win or lose, the rebels are all dead but I'm the only surviving Imperial Soldier. Now I need to get back to Rikke, although I have no idea how I will. My leg is clearly broken and my back feels like it's about to snap in two, and my horse is busy having his eyes pecked out by a crow. Suddenly, I hear a horse whinny in panic. I turn and see a lone horse pinned up, kicking at the door in panic. I hop over to him and quickly soothe him with a few words, and force myself to mount him without screaming in pain. I kick him with my one good leg and point him towards the caravan, my right wrist throbbing in pain.

* * *

What a sight I must be. Naked, bloody, and bruised. Not to mention I'm barley in the saddle of my stolen horse, I can't even hold on to the reins. I hear a commotion and feel myself being pulled from the saddle by three pairs of hands, for some reason I'm reminded of the battle and begin fighting. "Hush, stop fighting. We have to help you!" One of the soldiers tells me as I'm carried into a tent and laid on a table. "By the nine! What happened?" A young woman ask one of the soldiers as she examines my wounds. "She was the one leading the charge on Fort Sungard." The woman needs no more explanation, she begins tending to my wounds and tells one of the men, "She's Rikke's squire, right? Go get her mistress, she'll want to know." Two of the men leave, but one remains and ask, "Will she survive?" The woman feels along my ribs and says, "Only an act of Akatosh could keep her from dying within the next hour. I'm surprised she even made it back."

Their conversation is cut short by Rikke pushing through the tent flaps, she takes one look at me and says, "What happened!?" The soldier raises his hands in surrender and says, "She's all that's left of the charge on Fort Sungard, I think. If there are others they haven't gotten back yet, although I doubt any will." Rikke forcefully pushes him from the tent, obviously displeased with his opinion. She quickly takes a seat beside the table, her hand seeking mine out. This show of affection catches my attention and I let out a weak moan, my ribs burning as the healer pokes at them. Rikke shushes me and tightens her grip. "How long?" Rikke whispers to the healer. The woman stops her poking and says, "An hour or two until she begins her journey, if she's lucky she'll see the sunrise one last time. I could tend to some of her wounds, but it would be like flogging a dead horse." Rikke raises my hand and gives it a slight kiss before asking, "Anything?" The healer answers, "I have some kava root tea prepared, it may ease her pain. I can add some valerian root to it if you'd like, it'll put her into a deep sleep. With any luck she won't be awake when it happens." Rikke places my hand back on the table and says, "Do it." The healer quickly raises my head and pours some tea down my throat, my mind quickly becoming fuzzy. As I slip in to sleep I hear Rikke whisper, "Farewell."

* * *

**Legate Rikke POV:**

I watch my faithful squire close her eyes, most likely never to open them again. "Would you like me to leave you two?" The healer ask as she puts her tea set away. "Leave." I manage to get out, my eyes still focused on my squire's face. As she leaves I call out, "Wait! Give her a blanket or something, I won't have her meet the gods naked." The woman nods and quickly covers the bruises, cuts, and injures of my squire from sight with a thick goat hide blanket. As she leaves us I slowly rest my head on the table, quickly forming a resolve to stay with my faithful companion until she dines with Shor. It's only then I remember my companion is a khajiit, her soul unable to enter the afterlife of the nords. A few weeks ago when I had a conversation with her over spiced wine I brought up religion, with the wine in her system she admitted to worshiping Namira.

I let out a quite, sad laugh and tell her, "Of all the princes to worship, you choose the most disgusting prince of all. Your soul is bound to the Scuttling Void, all anyone knows about it is its name. Will you make it? Or will Namira reject you, will some other Daedric Prince claim you? At least you'll meet your god in an honorable way. You were a damn good squire, and an even better fighter from the looks of it. Other men would have simply laid down and died, but you made sure to report for duty before starting your final journey. I should have left the fort alone, or sent more men. I thought thirty men would be enough to capture the fort, but I was wrong." I feel a tear roll down my cheek, I don't bother wiping it away.

My squire groans in her sleep. _"Ten." _She whispers. I quickly push myself off the table, "What?" I whisper. My squire grumbles and says, _"Ten men."_ It suddenly occurs to me what she's talking about, "Ten men? There were only ten men?" I ask her as I reach my arm outside and motion for the healer. "Yes. Ten-" She hisses in pain, "soldiers. Thirty-" She takes in a few ragged breathes, "rebels." The healer quickly rips off the blanket, and what I see is a miracle. The bloody gashes have scabbed over, her broken ribs have removed themselves from her lungs, and some of her bruises are fading. "By the nine!" The healer lets out a laugh, "I guess the gods don't want her!" Her words sink in and I excitedly ask, "You mean she'll live!?" The healer nods and says, "She still needs time to recover, but she'll survive." I quickly pull my squire into a hug, and place her down once she moans in pain. "She needs her rest, do you wish to stay?" When I nod the healer smiles and makes her way out, allowing me to be alone with my drowsy companion. As she falls asleep I lay my head down on the table, quick to follow her example.

* * *

I'm awoken the next morning by the sound of my squire wolfing down her breakfast, she's elevated into a sitting position by a few pillows shoved in between her back and the table. "Morning sleepyhead." She mumbles out between bites of food. "By the eight, you look good as new! What happened?" I ask as I examine her perfectly healed body. She swallows some quail and says, "A priest healed me this morning, he's a miracle worker! Although, the healer said there wasn't much to work on." I'm confused by her words and ask, "Not much to work on?" She nods and says, "The healer says I was almost fine by the time the priest got here, doesn't even know how." Suddenly I remember last night, "There were only ten men?" She stops eating, glares at me, and says, "Yeah, what was the big idea!? Five senior citizens, one little boy, and four armorers!? Oh, and _fifteen men!? _There were thirty, easily! It was a suicide mission! Oh by the way, I captured the fort. Yeah, **I'm the only survivor! **All the rebels are dead, but I'm the only soldier still alive! I swear to Akatosh, if you don't garrison that fort _I will kill you!"_

I stop her rampage by raising my hand and saying, "I originally though there were fifteen men, then a scout got back and reported forty men held the fort. I originally assigned ten men to go with you, but raised it to thirty when I got the report. Those were old orders, I threw them away. How in the world did they get through? And more importantly, why were my new orders ignored!?" I've been talking to myself, but my companion says, "Am I suppose to know the answer to those questions? I don't. Now, are you going to garrison the fort." I nod and quickly stick my head outside, grab a passing soldier, tell him to go report the successful attack to Legate Erica, and go back to my place at my friend's side. "Wait, you took the fort with only ten men!?" She nods, cringes at my raised voice, and goes back to eating. After she's done eating she pushes herself up, finds a cloak that covers her nakedness, and suddenly looks ashamed.

"Something wrong?" I ask as I stare at the floor to avoid looking at her naked body. "The armor you gave me, it was destroyed in battle. I'm so-" I cut her off by saying, "It's fine, I'll have the quartermasters work on making another set." She smiles and ask, "When do we start riding?" My eyes widen as I watch her stretch her arms. "You." I'm lost for words and say, "Are something else."

* * *

**Ygfa's Daughter/ Nameless POV:**

I quickly slink away from the tent, making sure to remain unseen. "How did those orders get through? Why didn't my other orders go? Blah blah blah. Dumb cow." I mock Rikke as I make my way to my shared tent, hoping that I'll feel a little better after making fun of my wife's protector. I leap into the tent and onto my bed in one fluid jump, my sister screeching in surprise. "If that ugly troll would just keep her nose out of my business, things would go a lot smoother around her. She'd get her orders to go through, and I'd get my rightful wife." My brilliant sister ask, "Rikke again?" I snarl and say, "No, Elisif the Fair!" When she stares at me with a blank face I realize my sarcasm is wasted and I tell her, "Yes, Rikke. My orders went through, only my wife almost died. My plan was to have her retreat in shame and blame Rikke for giving her a pathetic number of men. Of course, my wife is a brilliant strategist and captured the fort. Oh well, maybe tomorrow I'll come up with a better plan."

My idiotic sister pushes herself up and ask, "Why do you tell me so many things? And, why do you want this girl so bad? You've let a thousand men and women escape you." I laugh and tell her, "You're an idiot so you won't repeat any of this, and it makes me feel more at ease. And, I want this girl because I can't have her, we've both seen the way Rikke looks at her. Besides, it's been a while since I've had a khajiit in bed. But, the second she gives herself to me I'll simply rape, beat, and starve her. Then, when she's broken I'll give her back to Rikke, and I'll get on with my life. Now shut up, I'm planning." And I am, but mostly I'm remembering. I close my eyes as a picture of a black stallion enters my mind. "Beautiful creature." I smile as a plan forms.


	14. A Kiss and Revelation

**Dovahkiin POV:**

"There has to be something I can do. Really, I feel fine! I want to help! Please." I tell Rikke as we set up the tent, she sighs but answers, "We need food, badly. I suppose you can go hunting, if you're quick." I give Rikke a smile before mounting Smiler, pointing him westward, and giving him a strong kick. I make sure to avoid any soldiers or citizens, no need to give them a reason to despise me. Within a few minutes I'm free to ride as fast as I can, open ground before me. I dismount after a few minutes, drawing my bow from my back. I notch an arrow, already ready to bring down any prey that crosses my path.

A fox is foolish enough to bolt in front of me in pursuit of a rabbit, and within moments they're both hanging from my belt. I continue walking, soon snow is crunching around my feet. A herd of deer are grazing, but there are too many for me to kill. I quickly kill the biggest elk with an arrow to his heart, but the rest of the herd flee before I get another chance to fire. I heave the deer onto my back, planning on calling it a day. The amount of prey I have is pathetic, but I don't know how I'll carry anymore food back to camp. I'm almost back to Smiler when I hear a low growl to my left, and when I turn I see a snarling bear ten feet away from me.

The creature is thin, balding, and his eyes are milky. No doubt he's ancient, starving, and plans on eating me or my deer. I quickly draw my bow, my arrow pointed right at his left eye. I let the arrow fly, but he moves at the last second. Roaring, the beast charges at me. I quickly draw my sword and take a fighting stance, ready for his attack. The brown furred bear stands on his hind legs, revealing his chest. His right paw swings downward just as my sword pierces his heart, with one last roar the creature falls onto his side and his paw passes harmlessly over my head.

I can't take the deer and the bear back, but the bear is clearly larger. I sigh as I begin walking back to Smiler, leaving the bear where he is. I ride Smiler over to where my kill lays, kill a curious fox, and heave the bear into the saddle. Smiler screams at the blood and weight of the bear, but doesn't bolt. I lay the bear so his face is hanging over Smiler's shoulder, and lay his body so it's going the same way as Smiler's torso. Due to the bear's size it looks as if he's mounting the stallion, but I don't hear any complaints from Smiler. I take the horse's reins and begin walking him back to the caravan, pleased with my kill.

* * *

Dinner is a wonderful occasion, everyone has full bellies and high hopes. I get to sit by Legate Rikke, the bear taste wonderful, and the soldiers have a bit of fun. The cooks used all of the bear besides the head, they didn't even skin it. The soldiers find a headless skeleton, a Stormcloak cuirass, and snatch the bear head from the trash. They dress the skeleton in Stormcloak gear, tie the bear's head on the skeletons neck, and hang the creature from a pole banner. They even go as far as to tie its hands, gag the creature with half of a salmon, and light it on fire.

Rikke says the activity is immature and dishonorable, but I can see a smile tugging at her lips. The bear's flesh soon melts off, leaving a snarling bear skull on top of a blackened skeleton. The soldiers soon bore of their bear head and instead begin telling stories, most of them about women they've bedded or men they've killed. It's around this time Rikke taps my arm and leads me away from the activities, and over to a small pond. "I couldn't listen to their chatter anymore, and this is as good a place to chat as any."

"What do you wish to talk about?" I ask as I sit beside the pond, allowing my feet to dangle an inch above the water. "Well, seeing you almost die made me realize something. I have questions, and if you want to I'd like you to answer them." I swirl my toes in the water and say, "Fire away." She sits down beside me and ask, "I wish to know about your children and mate, would you care to tell me?"

I let out a deep sigh, but answer. "I knew him since we were children, it only seemed natural we'd become mates. Eventually we had children, twins. Then, I found out I preferred the touch of a woman. He got rather upset, even accused me of leading him on. Then, one day I woke up and he'd taken the kids and left. I found them, but it was years later. By then he'd told them so many lie about me they hated me, and wanted me gone. I was a coward, I ran away to Skyrim. Then, I was caught poaching and so on and so forth." Legate Rikke is silent for a few moments, then she pats me on the shoulder and says, "I never would have left you. If you don't mind me asking, how did you find out you preferred the touch of a woman?"

I chuckle and say, "I sort of always knew, ever since I was a young adult. But, my parents would have been furious. I was their only child and my mother would have mourned 'the end of her bloodline', and my father always despised those different from him. Then, they fled to Cyrodiil to escape the Thalmor and I realized I could bed a woman and not get scowled. Finally, I got the never to hire a whore to bed me and I realized I don't care what people think of who I'm pleasured by." Rikke allows a silence to stretch on before asking, "Is there a woman you're fighting for?"

I shake my head and say, "I wish, but no. Unless you count the whores in Solitude's brothel." Rikke throws her head back and laughs, when she calms down she says, "Why isn't there a lucky lady?" I shrug and say, "I'm a khajiit, maybe women find me less approachable than other people. Not to mention," I point to my face and reveal my fangs in a toothy smile, "I don't think many women want to kiss someone with a face like this." Rikke cocks her head, before leaning closer to me. The kiss is soft and sweet, the last thing I expected from Rikke. When she finally pulls back she says, "I don't think it's that bad, it's actually quite enjoyable."

"Rikke-" I start to say something, but I'm cut off by Rikke's lips once again capturing mine. We're pulled apart and thrown into the pond by a charging horse, a hooded woman riding the stallion. "BITCH!" Rikke yells at the retreating woman. I've no armor so I'm wearing a ragged robe, which is now soaking wet. Rikke notices my attire, looks away blushing, and says, "Let's go change, we'll die of frostbite if we don't get dry." We all but run back to our tent, dodging the soldiers. When we arrive at our tent I quickly peel off the soaking clothes and change into a new robe, Rikke dons a new set of armor. After we're changed we quickly climb into our beds. As I fall asleep I lightly touch my lips, remembering Rikke's kiss.

* * *

**Nameless POV:**

"BITCH!" I smile when I hear Rikke yell after me, satisfied that I kept my wife from being taken by that savage of a woman. I quickly ride back to my tent, tie my horse, and slink into my bed. "How'd it go?" My sister ask me. "Wonderful, they're both soaked and distracted." My sister cocks her head and says, "So they're both wet?" I nod and she says, "Won't they need to get undressed? In their shared tent, in front of each other?" I wave my hand and say, "Nothing will happen." She lies down and says, "You're a lot calmer than me, I'd be terrified." I push myself up and ask, "Why?" She shrugs and says, "Well they kissed, so they know they like each other. And, your wife usually has fur to cover her privates, but now the fur's all wet and Rikke will see her breast as clear as day. Rikke is headstrong and pushy, she might want to skip courting and get straight to fingering your wife." I stand up and tell her, "For once you said something smart, don't do it again." I push myself out of the tent and begin running towards my wife's tent, hoping to find them asleep.

* * *

**Dovahkiin POV:**

I once again slink away from the camp, my hunger demanding I hunt. I quickly take my beast form, this time there's no pain or waiting. A strange scent catches my attention, but when I follow it I can't find my prey. The scent ends behind a large rock close to where I underwent my transformation, and there's no prey to be seen. I huff in anger, but find another scent to follow. I can only hope I find more prey, my stomach is roaring in hunger.

* * *

**Nameless POV:**

As soon as my wife's gone I deactivate my Shadow Stone Blessing and slink back into the camp, making sure no one sees me. A smile splits my face as I walk towards Rikke's tent, surely the gods must favor me. Why else would I get the perfect weapon to stop my wife from loving that savage? Rikke nearly falls out of her bed when I kick her in the ribs, but manages to stay on and glare at me. "What in Oblivion do you want?" She snarls as she sits up. "I know who the werewolf is."


	15. A Deal with the Devil

**"Liar!" **Rikke snarls as she leaps from her cot, her left hand already going to her sword. I shake my head and tell her, "She's the beast alright, I saw her transform with my own eyes." Rikke's lips curl and she spits, "I'm sure you did, now get out of my tent!" I force myself not to smile and ask, "Where _is _your faithful squire tonight?" Rikke notices the empty bed and answers, "She probably went to relieve herself or get a mug of ale, just because she's gone doesn't make her the monster." I can't stop the smile that splits my face, "No? Fine, follow me for proof." I exit the tent, Rikke right behind me. "Where in Oblivion are you going?" Rikke snarls as she struggles to keep up. "We're going to track the werewolf, then when it transforms back into your squire you'll know the truth." Rikke sighs and says, "One, we'll never find the werewolf. Two, if we find it we'll both die. Three, my squire isn't the werewolf!" I laugh, but manage to say, "By the end of the night you'll eat those words. Now shut up, we're closing in."

We aren't even close to the werewolf, I just managed to find her trail. Of course the werewolf could jump out of the bushes and surprise us, but I told Rikke to shut up for the simple fact her voice annoys me. The prints are deep in the muddy ground, rain from a week ago still hasn't fully dried up in this area. I lose the tracks a few times, but soon enough we're walking on snow. The snow makes the prints easy to follow, and within a few minutes I find a mauled deer. Rikke stares at the corpse in disbelief and says, "By the Nine, you actually found the tracks!" My eye twitches at the noise and I say, "Yes I did, now _shut up!_". We follow the prints for a few hours, it's obvious the werewolf can easily cover distance a lot faster than us. Soon enough I find another killed deer and some scat, it's disgusting and steaming in the cold air. "Filthy." I tell Rikke as I walk around the dung. "And fresh, we're close to the beast." Rikke sighs and says, "You said that five hours ago, it's almost midnight!" I wave my hand and tell her, "That was a lie, now we really are. Now quiet, unless you have a death wish!"

We soon approach a small cave, a strange noise coming from inside. I press myself close to the ground and slink forward on my belly, Rikke soon follows my example. The wind is blowing away from us, there's nothing to snap or make noise, and the beast seems preoccupied. It couldn't be more perfect, and a smile creeps across my face once the werewolf comes into view. The beast is busy tearing apart a small goat, three other corpses lay at her feet. At least I think it's a goat. I couldn't care less what it is, all that matters is that the sun's almost up. We sit still for an hour while my wife tears at her food, too busy eating to notice us. The sun's peaking when the werewolf pushes herself to her feet and exits the cave, we barely get out of her line of sight in time. We follow the creature to an open clearing, the exact same one where I first found the tracks. The creature lies down, and within a few minutes her limbs are shortening and her fur is changing from black to chestnut. I don't hesitate, I run forward and tackle the naked khajiit to the ground. She hisses as I force her face into the ground, and Rikke slowly makes her way towards us with a look of disbelief on her face.

My wife notices Rikke and yells, "Help! H-" I cut off the rest of her yelling by forcing her face further into the ground, a wicked grin appears on my face. "See!? She IS the beast!" I tell Rikke as she slowly walks forward, her eyes showing hurt and pain. Perfect, she won't want anything to do with my wife now. "There's a cage we put the more aggressive dogs in, remove the hounds and put her in it." Rikke manages to whisper as her voice cracks, I haven't felt this accomplished in years! I force my wife to her feet and ask, "What do I do with the hounds?" Rikke begins walking away and squeaks, "I don't give a damn." I gleefully pull my wife through the camp of soldiers, more than one of them staring at the sight of a naked khajiit being drug along. I kick the hounds out of the cage and watch them scatter, then I happily push my wife into her cage and watch her flail about. I can't help but laugh at the sight.

* * *

**Rikke POV:**

I slowly stumble back to camp, I feel as if my body belongs to someone else. I'm only a few feet away from my tent when a courier runs up to me, his face flush. "Stormcloak troops off the west flank!" I sigh and mount my horse, praying the rebels die before I get there. I don't even realize I've arrived until the sound of a war horn jolts me back to my senses, the rebels charging. There can't be more than twenty, yet I've lost the will to fight. I kick my horse into battle, my right side feeling empty without a chestnut colored khajiit to fill the space.

* * *

**Dovahkiin POV:**

I give up on picking the lock with my claws, even if I got it open Nameless is a foot away from the door and would surely stop my escape. Somehow I feel safer in the cage, probably because of the way Nameless is eyeing me. I quickly use my arms and tail to cover my naked body, which causes Nameless to throw her head back and laugh. "What's wrong? Self-conscious about your body? Don't worry, I don't mind a little," She once again eyes my naked flesh, "fur. It's just something to grab on to." I hang my head, her words disturbing me. "What's wrong? Is the little pussycat afraid of me? I have news for you, I'm not the one that threw you in this cage." She smiles, "Well I guess I am, but Rikke is the one who turned her back on you. She lied to you, made you feel safe so she could do," She points to the cage, "this to you."

I manage to squeak out, "Shut up." She once again laughs and says, "That's not a nice thing to say to the person who has the key to your cage." As if to prove it she dangles the key in front of me, just out of reach. The sound of fighting reaches my ears, no doubt Rikke is somewhere in the fray. "Please, let me go." I don't know why I'm begging her to set me free, I know she never will. "Now, where would be the fun in that?" She ask as she slowly gets closer to the cage, lightly tapping on the bars. "I can't stay here, I don't even know why I'm in here!" She once again laughs and says, "You're in here because you're the werewolf, and sooner or later someone will come in here and slit your throat." She smiles and continues, "I'm the only one stopping them, not even Rikke will save you now. Of course," She once again dangles the key, "I could set you free." I lunge for the key and she yanks it away. "On one condition." I can't stop myself from saying, "Anything!"

Nameless reaches into her cloak and pulls out a quill, bottle of ink, and piece of paper. "Sign this." She tells me as she pushes the items into my cage. I take the paper and try to make out the words, but it's no use. "What's wrong, my sweet?" I recoil at the term of affection, no doubt she said it just to scare me. "I can't read." I whisper. Nameless smiles and says, "Give me your hand and the paper." I hand her the items and watch as she flips my hand over, pours the ink on it, and presses my hand palm-down on the paper. "Perfect." She tells me as she unlocks my cage and steps aside, allowing me out.

I charge headfirst through the camp, pushing people out of my way. I don't believe what Nameless said about me being the werewolf, but I want to find Rikke. I follow the sound of the fighting, but almost scream in horror. Rikke lies on the ground, her horse must have spooked and bucked her. Fighting is going on all around her as she tries to get up, but nobody notices the youth crawling towards her with his dagger in his hand. I feel the transformation take over, and know what Nameless said is true. The battle stops and everyone sees who the werewolf is, but I couldn't care less. I leap into the battle and kill the youth first, but don't stop there. I fight until the last Stormcloak is down. I hear a noise over to my right and slowly turn, Rikke coming in to view. She looks at me, but I can't tell what she thinks. Panic consumes me and I turn and flee, leaving the caravan behind as fear and shame burn inside me.

* * *

**Rikke POV:**

I caged my companion because I feared she would take my life, but she's the only reason I'm alive now. I can only watch as her tail disappears, and the men around me instantly swarm around me. Shame overtakes me, it's clear to me now she had no idea she's the werewolf. I caged an innocent woman for doing something she had no control over, only a day after I kissed her. "Get me a horse!" I yell to the crowd, and soon enough reins are pushed into my hands. I quickly mount and kick the horse, pointing him in the direction my faithful squire went. As I begin riding I can't help but pray she's okay, and that the march doesn't disintegrate while I'm gone. It's only after I'm far past the march's borders I realize something, my squire had to have someone open the cage for her. After a few moments I realize who would benefit from me being gone, and a werewolf being let lose. _I'm going to kill that woman!_


	16. Till Death Do Us Part

I've been following the tracks for hours, and I haven't seen a single sign that I'm close to finding my friend. To make matters worse she ran north and I'm now riding my horse through snow high enough to touch her belly, not to mention a storm is starting. The only advantage is it's ridiculously easy to follow my squire's trail, but the horse is terrified of the scent. Just when I think I'm about to find her the storm picks up, and within moments a blizzard is roaring around me. My horse screams and tries to turn around, but I force her to go forward. Within seconds the tracks are gone, the snow erasing them. I can only assume my companion would be smart enough to find shelter, and pray she reveals herself to me. I've only gone twenty feet when my horse steps into a hole hidden by the snow, effectively breaking her leg. I tumble off of my injured mare, pain flairs in my shoulder when I hit the ground. By the time I manage to regain my feet my mare is thrashing in pain, and I quickly draw my sword and put her out of her misery.

I have no idea which way is which, but I force myself to continue moving. I can barely move in the snow and soon I'm shivering, even my nord blood can't keep me warm in this weather. As I'm walking my foot gets caught on something hidden and I fall flat on my face in the snow, but manage to regain my footing and keep moving. It happens three more times, but the third time I can't find the strength to get up. I've stopped shivering, a strange numbness has overtaken me, my skin feels prickly, and I can see the skin on my hand has become deathly pale. It's only now I realize I've failed, I'm going to die and my squire is going to be hunted down, beaten, and returned to Nameless. I refuse to think of what will happen after that, although I have a decent idea of what Nameless would do without me protecting my friend. I close my eyes, preparing to start my voyage to Sovngarde. My eyes are tightly closed, but I can see a blurry shadow appear above me. I feel my cuirass being tugged on and I'm soon dangling in the air, my hips and below still covered in snow. I'm being carried, but to where I don't know.

Within a few minutes I'm being carried into a small cave, an outcrop really. I'm dropped onto the floor, although I hardly feel the impact. The blizzard is still raging outside, but it can't get into the small sanctuary. I feel a thick fur blanket being placed over me, the warmth from it is almost smothering. In a few minutes I feel my limbs begin to warm up, but I still haven't opened my eyes. After I'm warmed I try to stay awake and wait for my savior to speak, but I fall asleep before they say a word.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning I notice the storm has stopped, and the blanket on top of me is breathing. I raise my hand and feel along the blanket, but quickly stop when the person atop me gives a tiny mumble. I only know one person in all of Skyrim who would save me from a blizzard and use her own body to keep me warm, but I still smile when I look down and see my squire's sleeping face. As much as I would love to simply lie there and gaze at her I'm aware that we have more important problems, and she probably has a better idea of where we are than I do. I lightly shake her awake, but it takes a few minutes before she pushes herself off of me. When she finally comes to her senses her eyes fill with sadness and she says, "I'm so sorry I-" I give her a light kiss, surprising both her and me. "You didn't know you were the werewolf, it's not your fault. When we get back people will want justice, but you've saved my life. My life will cancel out the deaths you've brought, but people may still want you gone. We'll have to do something about that, and I think I know what."

Happiness quickly replaces the sadness in her eyes and she ask, "What?" I push myself up and tell her, "If you came back a free woman the march would fall apart, people would turn against one another, and someone would surely slit your throat. If people thought you were my prisoner they couldn't say justice wasn't done, and they'd have no reason to turn on one another or kill you." I see a spark of fear enter her eyes and I quickly say, "You wouldn't be of course, but people would think you are. What do you think? Will you pretend to be my captive?" She considers what I said and answers, "I suppose so, but will you have to get a new squire?" I can hear the panic in her voice and tell her, "No, I think I can dress myself. Everything would be the same, besides the fact people would think you were forced to come back. So, will you do it?" She slowly nods and says, "If we want to catch up to the march we best get a move on, we're close to Whiterun." I help her to her feet and begin following her towards the march, her naked as the day she was born.

* * *

"Wait." I tell her when the march comes into sight. I quickly sneak towards the prisoners' wagons and grab a chain, and return to my squire with the metal in hand. I tie the chain around her neck and tell her, "So you look more like a captive, now come on." When we're spotted the soldiers quickly move out of the way for us, but stare in shock at the chained, naked khajiit. When I find another legate I quickly ask him, "I've returned with my prisoner, and I am prepared to regain command. Who currently leads the march?" I sigh when he tells me who's taken over, although I'm not surprised. Erica points me in her direction and I rush towards her tent, my squire barely keeping up. I push open Nameless's tent, the woman yelping when she sees me. It seems I've interrupted her celebration, if the empty wine bottles and plates are anything to judge by. "I've returned and have resumed my command, you're no longer leading the march." I thought her plan was for us the perish, but instead she calmly pushes herself up and says, "Very well, blah blah I give up command of the march blah blah." I begin leaving, but stop when she tells me, "Kindly leave my wife." My squire hisses, "Stop calling me that!" And I'm forced to step back into the tent. "I'm just saying the truth." The nameless woman tells us as she pulls out a piece of paper. "Give me that!" I snarl and rip the piece of paper from her grasp.

_Before the gods old and new, before man and mer, before prince and peasant. These two are now bound in joy and hardship, in peace and war, and in life and death. May the man or woman that comes between them suffer forever in Oblivion, for their love is true and pure. By the power of I, Rorlund High Priest of the Eight Divines, these persons are now married._

Beneath the note I see _Nameless, Daughter of Ygfa the Wondrous and Broken-Helm the Foolish _written in neat handwriting, an ink hand print is beside it. I rip the note in two, smile, and ask, "What proof do you have of your marriage?" My smile disappears when she pulls out a traced copy and hands it to me. "I have ten more, and I passed about ten others out to my brothers and sisters. Now, if you don't mind I wish to consummate my marriage. I can practically hear my squire's heartbeat pick up. "As much as I love that idea, your wife is my prisoner and will be treated as such. Now, if you don't mind I have to go lead the march." I tell her as I yank my squire out of her tent, anxious to go find her some clothes.

When we return to the tent I unchain her and allow her to dress, but I can't stop myself from asking, "Did you really marry her?" She stops dressing, turns to me, and answers, "She told me she'd let me out of the cage if I signed that, but I didn't know what it was. I can't read or write, I just thought it was something that said I'd pay her a certain amount of gold or something. Trust me, I'd marry a pig before I'd marry her." I can't help feeling relieved that she didn't willingly marry Nameless. "Rikke, what's going to happen?" I snap back to reality and tell her, "In three days we'll arrive at Falkreath, then we'll head-" She cuts me off by saying, "No, I meant with me. What are we going to do once we captured Riften? People will want justice, they'll want me dead. I just-" I rest my hand on the side of her face and give her a slight kiss, effectively taking her mind off the Rift. Once I pull away I tell her, "Ask me once I'm sitting in Jarl Laila's throne."


	17. Ill Met By Moonlight

I push my way into my shared tent, carrying two bowls and bottles. "I think dinner might cheer you up, blood sausages, boiled eggs, and some beans. I even managed to find some Cyrodilic Brandy." My khajiit friend quickly pushes herself up and begins devouring her meal, I quickly follow her example. "Any plans for the night?" My squire asks after she's done eating her blood sausage. "You were supposed to have guard duty tonight, but for obvious reasons you can't guard the camp. So instead I'll be taking over for you, and I don't want to come back to your corpse so you'll be coming along." I tell her as I finish my brandy, my beans long forgotten. The news seems to excite her, if her rapid eating is anything to judge by.

* * *

The fire has long gone out, yet my watch is only in its fourth hour. "Do you want me to gather wood?" My squire asks as she sits up, she's been lying for the last two hours. "No, any rebels or spies won't know where we're positioned. If I had it my way there wouldn't be any fires, then it would be near impossible for anyone to sneak into the camp undetected. I tried to do that one march, but we were too far into winter. We lost too many soldiers to frostbite so we had to give up on not having fires." I tell her as I drain a bottle of brandy, and almost choke when a bit of silver on my squire's finger catches my attention. "Give me your hand." My squire instantly does what I say, not even bothering to question me.

The band of silver is unremarkable, besides the snarling wolf head that protrudes from it. "When'd you get this?" I ask as I continue to examine the ring, but I find nothing besides the wolf head. "A few weeks ago, I think we were in between Dragon Bridge and Rorikstead." I begin tracing the wolf head and tell her, "You first attacked the caravan around that time, and if I recall correctly you destroyed your clothes and armor when you transformed, correct?" When she nods I continue, "So, how would the ring survive?" Her eyes widen and she asks, "Do you think it could be the ring?" I can't help smiling a little when she finally makes the connection. "Maybe, take it off just to be safe." Her face falls and she says, "I can't, it won't come off." I quickly release her hand and say, "I suppose that's our answer, although it raises another question. How do we get it off?" She seems even sadder so I tell her, "We could just chop off your finger."

Her eyes fill with panic and I quickly tell her, "Joking! All of your fingers will stay intact, don't worry. However, I do have one more question. From what you've told me you usually transform during the night, except when I was in danger you forced yourself to change. You don't recall any of the subconscious transformations, but recall the last one perfectly. Am I correct? Do you have anything to add?" She takes a swig from my bottle and says, "You're right and I've nothing to add." I quickly snatch back my bottle and tell her, "Do you think you could try to control your transformation?" Her brow creases and she answers, "Maybe, I guess I could start meditating." I finish my brandy and tell her, "Good. Now, let's start your lesson." I pull out a piece of parchment with numbers and letters on it from my pocket. "What's this for?" My squire asks as she looks over the paper. "I'm going to teach you how to read and write, so you aren't taken advantage of again. Now, let's begin."

Our lessons last all night, and yet it didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it to. I've never had to teach a person to read or write so I'm probably doing a horrible job, but my companion doesn't say anything. I give her a few minutes rest between each lesson, so I don't overwhelm her. When the sun rises we stop the lessons and return to camp, and instantly start riding. The march will arrive at Falkreath in three days, but I've decided to go ahead with my squire. If I'm correct we'll arrive later in the day, and hopefully have time to talk with the Jarl. The Jarl is an arrogant man, but even he wouldn't turn away the Legion. I hope.

* * *

By the time we reach Falkreath rain is freely flowing from the sky, drenching anyone who isn't covered. The moon is high in the sky, no doubt it's well past midnight. I assume that Siddgeir is asleep and turn my horse to the local inn, Dead Man's Drink. We tie our horse underneath the hay roof and slightly out of the rain, then proceed to rush inside. The inn is near abandoned and it's clear why, the roof has multiple holes in it and the floor's soaked. The fire's gone out and most of the food's soaked. We make our way over to the innkeeper, who's beneath one of the few areas where it isn't raining. She's sitting on top of the bar so her feet don't get wet, beside her is a small collection of dry food and drinks.

"Five gold for the bed, it's mostly dry. We don't have that much food, well, food that's dry. Bread's twenty gold a loaf, wheel of goat cheese is thirty five, a chunk of spiced beef is twenty eight, sweet rolls are twenty one apiece, and I have a slab of seared slaughterfish for fifty. As for drinks, all we have is ale for twenty five." The innkeeper tells me before I even reach her. "Your food prices are robbery, but I'll take the bed." I tell her as I toss five gold, and force myself not to smile when she almost drops it. We splash our way to the room and climb into bed, thankfully it's damp at most. As I fall asleep I hear a familiar roar from outside, but I'm too far gone to get up and check.

* * *

Tomorrow morning I once again splash my way outside, my squire right behind me. We walk to the longhouse, giving our horses a well-deserved rest. When Siddgeir spots me he attempts to casually escape, but I manage to cut him off. "Siddgeir! Come, let's talk." I tell him as I yank him into his bedchamber, and force him to sit across from me and my squire. "Ah Rikke, a joy." The Jarl tells me with a sour look on his face, "What do you want?" I sigh and tell him, "Five hundred pounds of food, eighty men, thirty horses, ten of your finest hunting hounds, and your local smith to accompany us." His face twist and he says, "Ten pounds of food, three men, four horses, no hounds, and you may glance at my smith." I can't stop the laugh that escapes me, but after I calm myself I tell him, "Either I get my demands or you get to come with us!" His face pales and he says, "You can't be serious!" I smile and answer, "It would rally my men to see a Jarl lead them into battle, of course if you give me my demands you could stay here."

"Fine, I'll give you your demands. Now, I have bigger problems so be gone!" Siddgeir snarls, but my squire ask, "What kind of problems?" Siddgeir glares at her and says, "A werewolf attacked a child last night and slaughtered her. We have him in the barracks, but he's still dangerous." We both leave the longhouse slowly, but my squire bolts off to the barracks once Siddgeir can't see us. The guards don't bother to question us as we enter the jail and make our way over to the solitary cell, a hunched man the only occupant. "Come to stare at the beast?" The nord ask as he approaches the bars, a pained look on his face when he notices my squire.

His eyes land on her ring and he nearly yells at her, "Where did you get that ring!?" My squire jumps and answers, "A merchant sold it to me." He seems to calm down and tells her, "You know the power it wields?" When she nods he continues, "I once wore that ring, but I freed myself of it." My squire gets closer to the bars and ask, "How?" A sad look crosses his face as he shows us his left hand, the ring finger no more than a bloody stump. When my squire quickly backs away and gasps he says,"Although there's another way." Once again my squire gets closer, but listens instead of ask. "If you earn Hircine's favor he'll surely reward you with the ability to control yourself, but you have to know how. There's a white stag that lives in these woods, slay it and you'll get his attention." Before we can finish talking a guard ushers us out. As we walk back to the inn my squire ask, "What do you think?" I wait a moment and tell her, "Lets go get us a stag."


	18. The White Stag

**Dovahkiin POV:**

"We're wasting time, let's just go back!" Rikke whispers to me for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time I whisper back, "One more hour, then you can go back. But, I'm staying out her until I have a white cloak." Of course when the hour passes Rikke will continue to stay by my side, always the faithful companion. We've camped out beside a bright blue stream, the small creek is the only source of water within twenty miles. We've seen a few deer, but all of them were dull brown or grey. I've been a hunter for years and know for a fact the deer will eventually cross this way, the cold winds will drive him south and he will naturally stay by his only source of water. I have experience with hunting deer. I was once forced to track a deer for a week before I slit his throat, although that had been a harsh winter with little meat or vegetation. I'm used to sitting around for hours and waiting, but it's obvious Rikke is not.

She has to do something to keep busy, or else she'll begin complaining. She taps her foot, cleans her blade until it's spotless, and continually glances over her shoulder. It's clear to me she's either worried about something or paranoid. "Something wrong?" I ask her as I string my bow, but sigh when a brownish deer steps from between two trees. "I thought I saw one of Ygfa's daughters in Falkreath, I swear it looked just like that one without the ear." I put my arrow back in my quiver and tell her, "You're just upset about the trick Nameless played on us, and I don't blame you. Relax, I'm just you're just tired and seeing things. It was probably just a goat, they look about the same." Rikke laughs and leans back, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.

Night's fallen when I see the spot of white appear downstream, slowly growing larger as the stag walks towards us. He towers over any stag I've ever seen, he even dwarfs the horses we have back at Falkreath. His fur is unmistakable, like fresh fallen snow. I'm almost sad when I send the arrow flying towards him, but I can't help feeling satisfied when his chest explodes and blood stains his beautiful fur. He doesn't even have time to scream as his legs give out and he collapses. I quickly make my way over to the corpse, a ghostly copy already standing beside the buck. Before I can speak, the ghostly stag points his head towards me and tells me, _"Mortal. I know why you are here, save your words for another's ears. Travel to Bloated Man's Grotto, there you will find the weakling you saw in Falkreath. Slit his throat and you shall be rewarded, now be gone." _And before I can argue he's gone, the white stag's corpse still at my feet.

I quickly skin the deer while preserving the head and antlers, an old trick I learned from a long dead hunter whose name I forgot years ago. I clean the head in a way so it can be worn like a hood, mimicking the werewolf head I had on my armor. I clean the pelt in the stream, but stop when the blood is rinsed out of the pelt. I drape the skin over my shoulders, but the end of it still touched the ground. I don't have a pin so I'm forced to tie the stag's front legs together, but is suffices. I pull the buck's head over my own and begin walking towards Bloated Man's Grotto, my new antlers clanking all the way.

* * *

I slowly enter the cave, thinking how ironic it would be if a hunter mistook me for a stag and shot me dead. However, no arrow pierces my heart, but a dying man does manage to grab onto my ankle as I pass. "The beast is strong, too strong. Others will come, but you must help them." Before I can ask what he means, the man coughs up blood and dies. "Looks like we aren't the only ones vying for Hircine's favor." I tell Rikke as we walk farther into the cave, my antlers shining in the moonlight. I've already fallen in love with my new cloak, especially the stag's magnificent horns.

"Never though I'd see you again." I look up to where the voice came from, and see the outline of a werewolf against the blood red sky. "Have you come to hunt with me? Or hunt me?" He asks as he inches towards the edge of the cliff, no doubt preparing to leap down upon me when I answer him wrong. I motion to Rikke and pray she gets my meaning, before telling him, "I wish to hunt beside you." I can see his furry shoulders relax as he tells me, "Thank the nine. The hunters have arrived and I feared I'd meet my end. But with you at my side nothing is impossible! Now come quickly, the prey gathers." I do as he says and run up to meet him, and gulp when I notice how he towers over me.

I don't remember much of the battle, our foes shatter before our might. All I remember is how the last few hunters attempted to flee, and how we cut them down like dogs. "Thank you, now I must be gone. It's clear to me I can't live among humans, goodbye my friend." As he turns to leave I tell him, "Wait." He turns with a hopeful look on his face, but I don't know why. All I know is my blade connects with his neck as Rikke's dagger meets his chest. He roars in pain, but his pelt offers no protection. Within a few minutes he's dead and my cloak is stained once again, not to mention the ghostly aspect of Hircine has once again appeared.

_"Well done hunter, now for your reward." _He moves closer, places his nose on the ring, and tells me, _"You may now control your transformation, but the ring shall stay on your finer until the day you die. Farewell, hunter." _I can only watch as the Daedric Lord disappears, his curse still on me. The curse was only weakened, not taken away. "I suppose that's as good as it's going to get." I whisper as Rikke leads me out the grotto, I suppose I went into shock when I learned I'm still a werewolf. As the wind howls Rikke wraps her arms around me, "Come on, let's get back to Falkreath." I nod at what Rikke said, still shell shocked at what Hircine said. _I'll never be free._


	19. Bolts and Secrets

**Rikke POV:**

I lead my squire back to the inn and sit her down on the bed, "Do you want," I offer her the furry armor, "this? The ghost thing dropped it after he disappeared. I didn't think you noticed it." She slowly shakes her head and whispers, "No." I drop the armor and sit down beside her before asking, "Are you okay?" When she shakes her head I wrap my right arm around her, "Want to talk about it?" My squire takes in a deep breath before saying, "I'll always be a werewolf. A monster." I pull her closer and tell her, "You can control yourself now, you aren't a monster." I hear the sound of soldiers entering the inn and quickly yank the chain from under our bed and tie it around my companion's neck, "But, as of right now you're a prisoner." Legate Ericka sticks his head in to tell me the caravan has arrived, but quickly leaves when I tell him I don't wish to be disturbed the rest of the night.

"Would you like something to eat?" I ask my squire as I remove her cloak, the white fur stained with blood. "No." I can't help sighing, it seems she's still in shock. I stick my head out into the common room and call for Legate Effile, and tell her to bring me two plates of bread and beef. She soon returns with the plates in hand, but I send her away when she attempts to enter the room. My squire's lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I brought you some food in case you get hungry." I tell my squire as I sit down, but she simply nods and keeps gazing at the ceiling.

"I heard there are some Stormcloaks tailing us, want to go crack some skulls?" I ask my squire once my meal is done, she's still on the bed. She rises and nods before handing me her chain and putting on her bearskin cloak. By the time we reach Riften my squire will have a thousand cloaks. But, it makes sense she'd leave her favorite cloak behind. The soldiers allow us to pass without incident, but I can see a few eye her with contempt. If anyone saw her mount a horse they'd grow suspicious so we're forced to walk to the edge of the caravan. "Effile! Get me ten strong warriors!" I snarl at my Legate, and at once she's off to find me warriors.

By the time the men appear the sun's sitting, but I lead them into the thick woods that surround Falkreath. The Stormcloaks have camped out in a small cave, an idiotic mistake. I'm about to give the order to charge when one of the men asks, "Are you going to allow the beast to fight alongside us?" I control my urge to slap him and ask, "What?" He blinks before asking, "Will someone have to watch the beast?" He glares at my squire, "Or can we just tie her to a tree and hope the enemy finds her while they flee?" I once again fight my urge to slap him and tell him, "No, she'll be fighting with us. Squire! Change!" It's my squire's turn to ask, "What?" I turn to her and tell her, "Change into your beast form, you're helping us fight." My squire raises her eyebrow, but does what I tell her.

I resist the urge to mount my now gigantic squire, I doubt she'd find that notion as amusing as I do. "Form up! Full on attack!" I release my squire's chain and watch her go bounding into the group of rebels, her mind effectively taken off of the fact she'll always be a werewolf. The enemy scream in terror, but soon they're firing steel bolts at my companion. The crossbowmen are slow to reload, but when we arrive and begin attacking my friend has at least ten bolts sticking from her hide. I find their general, he's attempting to escape further into the cave and go unnoticed. He screams in terror and throws down his weapon, yielding. The general is obviously a coward and probably knows nothing of enemy movements, so I have no problem decapitating him and leaping for the next rebel.

She manages to block my attacks for a short while, but soon my blade enters her chest and exits her back. I wipe my blade clean on her corpse, the battle now over. "Men go back to camp, I'll catch up." I tell the nine remaining men, the one who asked if my squire was going to be tied up is in two pieces. The men quickly disappear, leaving me and my squire alone. She is at the mouth of the cave and gnawing at a bolt stuck in her shoulder, the bolt is protruding from her back. I place my hand on her hairy shoulder and push her snout aside, "This will hurt, but it needs to be done." I tell her before I push the arrow all the way through her, and quickly rub her back when the blood begins flowing and she whimpers.

"The rest of the bolts fell out, don't worry. I think the men will tell stories of this battle, no matter how small it was. Well we best head back, the ravens are already feasting." I slowly walk back to camp with my werewolf companion, who gladly stays by my side. When we get back to camp a small group is gathered, although most disappear when they see the towering wolf beside me. We're able to safely make it back to our room, and soon enough my squire is once again a khajiit. "That was interesting." My squire tells me as she takes off her cloak, the one piece of her clothing that survived. "Just imagine the stories people will tell." I say as I hand her some sleeping clothes, the night already upon us. As my squire climbs into bed she laughs and says, "I'm sure, 'Did you see Rikke? She attacked the rebels with a gigantic she wolf at her side.'". I roll my eyes and climb in beside her. "I'm certain that's what they're saying. Night."

* * *

**Nameless POV:**

I listen to my one-eared sister report all she has found out, and can't help frowning. "Interesting. Keep following them, I want to know exactly what they do when they do it. Are we clear?" I tell her as I lazily run my blade along the table, in the crowded inn nobody will notice our conversation. "Yes." She squeaks out before running away, no doubt to find my wife. I pull out my whetstone and slowly sharpen my knife while I think about all I've learned today. "Very interesting indeed."


	20. Nightmares and Prophecies

**Rikke POV:**

We're forced to leave Falkreath the next day when the Jarl learns my squire's a werewolf. The entire town was gathered at the gates when we left, most of them yelling obscenities about my squire. I suppose it was my own fault, the town is still mourning over the little girl that was ripped to shreds by a werewolf. My friend has assured me it wasn't my fault and that I was doing what I thought was best, but that doesn't help when I noticed how miserable she is when we're riding through the angry villagers. When they spot her the townsfolk begin screaming in earnest, my squire hangs her head and slinks lower in the saddle.

I force myself not to scream at the villagers in anger, but my resolve is broken when a rock flies from to crowd and solidly hits my squire in the face. Screaming, I charge my horse to the edge of the crowd. **"Who threw that!?" **The villagers back away at once, leaving an elderly man cowering before me. I give the man a sweet smile and tell him, "Congratulations! You're now a member of the Imperial Legion. You'll be on the front line when we reach Riften.". Before the man can flee, Legate Effile rides up and drags him towards the back of the caravan. For an old lady she has unnatural strength. The crowd quickly disappears, they're probably afraid they will have the honor of joining the Legion if they hang around.

I trot my horse over to my stationary squire and allow myself to shed my title of commander for a few moments, just this once in front of the soldiers. I gently grasp my squire's chin and raise her head so I can see her face, her left eye already swelling from where the rock hit. I lean down and kiss the forming bruise, not caring that everyone is watching. Who gives a damn what the soldiers gossip about? I stopped caring last night, the soldiers who fought with me were spreading a rumor that my squire is little more than a slavering hound that follows my command. But, no matter how many rumors pop up, the soldiers will follow me to Oblivion and back. Being a respected Legate has its advantages.

After I'm done kissing her wound my squire looks up at me, a sad happiness replacing the fear in her eyes. I release her chin and urge my horse forward, within moments we've begun marching again. When we arrive at Helgen the sun is still up, but I don't wish to march any more. The city is a burned shell, but a few charred houses have a wall or two still standing. The weather is fine so I decided to take refuge in the least damaged house, three walls and half of a roof. It's far from private, but the city disturbs me too much to sleep in my closed off tent. I want to be able to see the sky and easily call for help, and someone would surely notice if an assassin or spy tried to sneak into my building.

My squire reaches to take her collar off, but I quickly shake my head and take her hand in mine. I lean in and whisper, "This city is too open, someone could see. We have to keep pretending you're my prisoner, I'm sorry.". My squire nods in understanding, but it doesn't stop pain from welling up in my chest. It hurts me to have to pretend as if my squire is lesser than me, but it must be done. Effile brings us some dinner, beef stew and wine. I thank the elderly woman kindly and ask that she sees nobody disturbs us. When we go to bed I attach the chain to my squire's collar and wrap the chain around my wrist, we're forced to sleep close together due to the short length of chain. As I go to sleep I can't stop my stomach from feeling queasy, my dinner stirring.

* * *

A huge oak banquet table is set up in the middle of the charred city, I'm sitting in a steel throne at the head of the table. I glance at the huge feast, and feel vomit in the back of my throat. Jellied calves' brains, boiled duck embryos, a wheel of goat cheese cut in half to reveal the maggots inside, spiced spiders, smoked sheep heads, ox penises, fried pig blood, salmon eyes, blood pancakes, cockscomb, bat wing stew, and cow feet soup are just a few of the dishes. It's only after I'm done taking in the vomit inducing food I notice the main course, it's right in front of me. His right eye is missing, his flesh is rotten, and maggots have taken residents, but there's no mistaking the head in front of me. Tullius. Slowly, I take a carving knife and stand up. The eight other chairs at the table are filled by my guest, and my mother always said it was rude to make a guest beg for his food. A thick fog covers the world, I can only see my guest when I'm right beside them.

The first guest is Elisif, a red smile opening her throat and staining her dress. I hack off a chunk of cheek and serve her, but when she opens her mouth to thank me only blood comes out. My second guest is a headless Ulfric Stormcloak. When I serve him he waves his hand in thanks, but has no way to eat the ear I gave him. I move onto the next guest and almost drop the platter, Elenwen doesn't seem to notice her intestines are falling out through the slash in her belly. She doesn't bother thanking me, she begins savagely tearing at the piece of neck I served her. My last guest on the right side is Nameless, naked with a broken spear through her chest and a red smile on her neck. A chain is wrapped around her hand, but the fog conceals what's at the end of it. I crack open Tullius and serve Nameless the brain, when she smiles her teeth are shattered and her tongue is shredded.

I move on to the other side of the table, and find out what's on the end of Nameless's chain. My squire has the head of a wolf, empty eye sockets, and her snout is sewn shut. I serve her and watch as she blindly searches for her food, but leave when she desperately attempts to shove the meat into her mouth. Siddgeir is in the next chair, an ax protruding from his skull. He mutely nibbles the bit of nose I give him. Maven Black-Briar is my next guest, she's half naked and has a dagger sprouting from her chest. She scowls at the meat I give her, but after a few seconds desperately rips the flesh apart. My final guest is Jarl Laila, my sword is stuck in her neck and she's crying as her blood stains her nightgown. I silently serve her and walk away, leaving my blade in her neck.

I sit back down on my throne, the steel now turned to dirty bones. Meat, blood, and fat cling to the bones, but I couldn't care less. I pick up my knife and fork and begin eating my share of the main course, the fog still blocking my guest from sight. The maggots writhe on my tongue and the dried blood almost chokes me, but I rip the meat apart and swallow. When I place my utensils down all that remains of Tullius is his smiling skull, blood staining the bone. The fog clears and I can see my guest, and what I see almost makes the maggots come back up.

Elisif is clawing at her throat, causing the wound to open and revealing her esophagus. Ulfric has successfully managed to use a sheep's head as a makeshift skull, and is pouring pig's blood down the smoked sheep's mouth. Elenwen has abandoned the feast and is gnawing at her own organs, strewn out on the ground like a thousand worms. Nameless is pouring bat wing stew in her mouth, but it's pouring out her neck and on to her naked chest. The left side isn't any better, if anything it's worse.

My squire glumly sits in her seat, unable to eat or drink anything. Nameless must see my squire's sadness because she reaches across the table and begins caressing her face. With a _snap _Nameless twist my squire's neck until she falls back into her seat. In Nameless's mind she's done her the mercy of killing her so she no longer has to smell the feast, unable to taste or look at the dishes. Siddgeir is sucking on a bit of jellied calf brain, using his ax as a fork. Laila has ripped my sword from her neck and is eating, her neck now weeping. I lean forward and retch, adding another dish to the feast. As the maggots once again writhe on the table I slip back into consciousness, a hand lightly shaking my shoulder.

* * *

My squire is shaking me awake, her voice slowly waking me. My beautiful, perfectly normal, and breathing squire. Before she knows what's going on I trap her in a hug, my dream still fresh in my mind. "What's wrong?" My squire asks me once she sees my face, our breakfast in her lap. I take my plate, but can't bring myself to eat. "Nothing, I just had a nightmare. A horrible, disgusting, wretched nightmare.". My squire puts her plate down and tells me, "I once met an old woman who claimed she saw the future in dreams. I don't believe her, but I don't think we should ignore our dreams.". I sigh, but relent and tell her the nightmare. My squire looks like she's about to be sick, but has the good grace not to vomit and tells me, "I don't think we'll ever have a feast in this god forsaken place, but I wouldn't forget this dream any time soon.". We hear the sound of riders mounting up and I tell her, "Let's go. It's time to get a move on.". And, once again we begin to ride, my nightmare playing over again and again in my mind.


	21. Ivarstead

When we stop we've only marched a few miles, but we're close to Ivarstead. If everything goes as planned we'll take the Ivarstead guards unawares and capture the tiny town tomorrow morning, but right now I have a free day. It's one of those rare times I have nothing to do, of course my mind naturally begins planning. After a few minutes, I have a brilliant idea and return to my shared tent, push my way inside, and rouse my squire from her nap. "I want you to go to Ivarstead.". I tell my squire once she's awake. Rubbing her eyes she asks, "Why?". I sigh and tell her, "When I attack I'm only bringing ten men, you can kill the captain of the guard when the fighting starts. You will have to stay overnight though, I'm sure they know we're here. Tomorrow they might not let you in the town.". It takes a while, but eventually my squire reluctantly agrees and leaves. As I eat lunch I can't stop the nagging feeling inside me. It's only been an hour and I'm already worried about my friend. But, all I can do is stir my soup and pray she doesn't get caught.

* * *

**Dovahkiin:**

I glumly trudge into Ivarstead and almost leave instantly, but force myself to make my way over to the inn. I order ten bottles of ale and begin drinking, but stop when I hear the tavern keeper and a patron talking. "Damn Imperial bastards are camped out a few miles from town." The inn keeper says and he cleans a mug. "Don't worry, if they come here we'll fight tooth and nail. But, who in Oblivion is leading the assault? I thought all of the Legates were busy growing fat in Solitude." A drunkard asks the man behind the bar. The man laughs before telling the drunk, "The leader is _Rikke. _The Rift, Eastmarch, and Whiterun are the only three holds still resisting the Legion. Guess they needed their best to take one stinking city. Not that she will, Jarl Laila will stop them at the gates.".

They share a laugh before I ask the innkeeper, "Any other rumors about the Legion?". The man eyes me before saying, "Yeah, quite a few. Care to hear 'em?". When I nod he smiles and tells me, "I'll tell you all of the ones I know. Rikke managed to capture and tame a werewolf, but the wolf's as mad as Sheogorath. Also, the Legion joined forces with a bunch of savages up near Rorikstead. Their leader is an insane woman with no name, but she's killed a thousand men. ". The man suddenly smiles and says, "Now for my favorite! The no name leader is as filthy as a skeever, but saved a maiden from a group of rapist. Afterwards, the maid gave her maidenhead to the savage, but Rikke stole the woman from underneath the savage while they were sleeping. Even now Rikke keeps the woman locked away in her tent, every night she forces herself upon the deflowered maid as an insult to the nameless savage."

He scratches his face and continues, "Rikke's been robbing any city, town, or person she meets on the road. The Legion's desperate for anything, even men. Any able-bodied person she meets has been forced to join the Legion, or die trying to escape. Well, that's all I know.". I thank the man and ask him, "Who's the captain of the guard around here? I'd like to help defend against the Imperial dogs.". The drunkard slaps me on the back and tells me, "Me! Met me tomorrow morning!". I nod and slip the innkeeper some gold. "Have a room?". I ask him. The man looks at the gold and points to an empty room. I thank him and go to bed, my mind racing.

* * *

**Rikke POV:**

When I spot Ivarstead I almost scream in anger, five men are armored and ready to meet us. But, I see my squire standing beside their leader and can't help smiling. When my squire slits his throat and reveals herself as a turncoat there will only be three men defending the city. With a laugh I command seven of my men to return to the march. Usually I frown upon cockiness, but I've fought enough battles to know this one won't last three minutes. And, I'm almost right. When the guards see their commander die they flee in terror, but two are killed by arrows. The third one has the luck to get hit in the leg and keep running, but isn't able to outrun my horse. I trot my mare over to my squire, blood staining my horse's hooves. I offer my squire my hand and yank her up so we're riding double. My horse whinnies at the extra weight, but knows the consequence of bucking me.

I put my heels to my mare and ride back to the slow moving march, within a few minutes I'm at the head of the column. "We'll rest for the night, but I have another favor to ask of you." I tell my squire as we ride. She looks afraid, but asks, "What?". I urge the mare to go faster and tell her, "We attack Riften tomorrow, and I want you beside me when the gates fall. Beast or woman, I want you by my side. Also, when we take the city you'll soon learn the city is crawling with thieves. I want you and a few men to go down into the bowels of the city and clear the sewers of the scum living within. I'm not going to force you, but I want you to lead the men. A lessor soldier might allow their gold to distract him from justice. Will you lead?". My squire squeezes my abdomen and tells me, "I'll always stand by you, but I think I'd rather do it on four legs this time. As for the thief matter," She squeezes tighter. "I wouldn't mind cracking a few skulls.". I can't help smiling as I urge my mare faster, anxious to get to Riften.


	22. Riften

I fiddle with my squire's fur as the camp around me slowly wakes from sleep. "Have you ever seen Riften?". I ask her as I undo the tangles in her mane. She protested me untangling her hair at first, but relented when I commanded her to allow me. My squire's been dressing me, fetching my meals, and taking care of all of my needs for the last few weeks. The least I can do for her is untangle the knots in her fur that she can't reach. She yawns and tells me, "Not until today. It's amazing!". I refuse the urge the chuckle at how easily impressed she is, and tell her, "You saw a few watchtowers, the walls, and gates. You won't believe the inside of the city. It's filthy and cramped, but it has its beauty. The water shimmering as the sun sets, small gardens where chickens live, and beautiful foliage covers the walls inside. I think you'll like it, once the Stormcloaks and thieves are taken care of.".

I wrap my arms around her neck, for once in my life I have an urge to be romantic. I give her a slight kiss behind her ear and ask, "Ready to go?". My squire sighs, but stands up. I lead my squire through the darkness, it's the middle of the night. We walk down to the shore, five flat-bottomed boats waiting for us. Black cloth is tied around the oars, the sails are painted black, and the men in the ships are wearing black cloaks. Yesterday I managed to pay off a local brewer, he said he'd open the floodgates for our boats to pass. Each boat can hold fifteen men, but seventy five men isn't near enough to take the city. But, we can hide in The Ratway until the real fight begins. Usually I'd have someone else lead the stealthy attack, but I have a different plan. I only brought two hundred men and only one hundred have joined us. All of them could sneak in tonight if I so wished it, but it's too risky. Instead, Legate Effile will lead the men at the gate, Legate Erica leading the ones climbing the walls, and Nameless leading the attack on the docks.

Once the battles have started we'll ascend from The Ratway and surprise them, but we'll still lose good men. As I help my squire into our boat I can't stop myself from squeezing her hand tight, terrified that tomorrow I'll see her fall. It's a strange feeling, one I've never had before. In every battle I've ever fought my first thoughts were about myself, never about another person. Now as we begin paddling I realize something, I can't imagine losing her. Tomorrow she could die and I couldn't do a thing about it. Her eyes could go blank, her hands grow cold, and her voice silenced forever. As we pass below the floodgates I realize I'm afraid, for the first time in a long while I'm afraid before a battle. As we cram into The Ratway I make sure to lie by my squire when we all hunker down to get a few hours of rest. The men have been talking about me and my squire, if I was smart I'd make sure to treat my squire like my captive. As I nestle closer to my squire I can't help smiling, I suppose I've never been very smart.

* * *

I'm awoken by the very tunnels vibrating, the screams of dying men, and my squire shaking me furiously. I yank my sword from my belt and leap up. The men around me are staring at me and waiting to see what I'll do. I push my way through the throng of people and push open the door. The sun is just now rising, but the city's illuminated by the multiple fires. As I run up the stairs I wonder why they attacked early, I commanded the soldiers to attack around midday. As if in answer I hear Nameless roar in rage and a man scream in pain. My squire follows me as I examine the battle. The bridges to the marketplace have been burned, a group of Stormcloaks are huddled on the island. "Archers, fire!". I scream, and a few seconds later the island is inhabited by corpses. I look around the city and smile at how the battle's going.

Erica and his men managed to scale the walls, but Legate Erica is lying on the ground with his head a few feet away. Effile is leading an attack on the keep, but being held off. I'm about to lead my men to the battle when I hear a scream. When I turn I feel my stomach roll, and for good reason. The orphanage is burning while Nameless and her savages attacking it. An old lady is hung with her organs spilling from her gut, but that's not what turns my stomach. A few of the children are lying on the ground wounded, some dead, and two are screaming in terror as the savages poke at them with their weapons to make them dance. I wonder where Nameless is, but stop when I see her on top of a naked and crying woman. I'm about to stop the savagery when my squire runs past me, screaming her fury.

Without a second thought I follow her, my men on our heels. We don't kill any of the savages, but manage to harass them towards the real battle. Nameless spots her 'wife', pushes herself off of the crying woman, and jogs over to us. "Why'd you stop our fun?". Nameless asks as she eyes her wife, her face still flushed from her activities. I refuse the urge to slap her and tell her, "You should be helping with the battle, not raping, killing, and plundering.". Nameless snorts and turns to leave, but stops when I grab her arm. I flip her around and snarl, "There's no way in Oblivion I'm letting you walk away! Men! I'll need five of you. Put out the fire, bury the dead, and take the wounded to a healer!". I wave my hand at the crying woman and tell them, "Her included.". I look at Nameless and tell her, "You'll be helping them, one sign of treason and I'll slit your throat.". Nameless looks like she wants to argue, but nods and picks up one of the wounded children.

I once again turn my attention to the battle and see Effile almost to the keep. I raise my sword, yell, and charge. My squire is right beside me, but the men lag behind. The tide quickly turns when we arrive, but I still get to fight. Screaming, slashing, and stabbing. Men fall before me like flies, not a single one lands a blow. I'm vaguely aware that my squire's taken her beast form, but in all honesty I think that might be why the rebels scream and run. "Men! Stand aside! My squire and I are the only two who'll enter! Any man who steals will lose his hand! Any man who murders will lose his life! Finally, any man that rapes will lose his cock!". I yell as I push my way through the throng, but when I reach the door I see a familiar smirk. "Hello. I believe I also need to go in?". Maven asks me as I push open the door. I glare, but allow her to follow us in. "Cute dog.". Maven tells me as we walk down the hall, Laila sitting in her throne.

I ignore Maven's jab and clear my throat, but once again Maven ruins something for me. "I think I'll like living here.". Maven says as she looks around the hall. Laila stands and snarls, "So enters Maven Black-Briar, the glint of Imperial coin in her eyes. So tell me, what's the price for a woman's integrity these days?". My squire whimpers as Maven pushes past her and tells Laila, "You never were able to see the forest for the trees, were you?". I'm about to stop the exchange when Laila walks down the stairs and booms, "We Nords were proud warriors once. And we still could be. Evidenced by the men and women who fought and died bravely today. You could see that if you had any faith left in that black heart of yours. But no, you're content to snatch scraps falling off the Emperor's table. Fine. Take my home. Take my city. May it burn down around you.". Maven laughs and tells Laila, "A bit melodramatic, even for you Laila. Pack your things and go.".**  
**

My squire crawls closer to me as the exchange continues. Laila walks by Maven and tells her, "One day when you can see past your own interests, you will come to see that we were right. And this... This is all wrong.". Maven laughs again and sits in the throne, but before she can say anything I snarl, "If you ladies are finished bickering, there's much to be done. Jarl Black-Briar put your government together. Do it now, or there will be rioting in the streets. We must move quickly to prevent further violence.". Maven smiles and tells me, "Jarl Black-Briar. I must admit, I do like the sound of that. And don't worry about any rioting, Legate. I have it under control. We will soon begin publicly executing captured men. That should send a clear message to the people.". Laila pushes open the door and yells over her shoulder, "Yes, but not likely the one you intend.". Right before the door slams shut Maven tells her, "Oh? I don't expect anyone to miss my meaning.". She gets up and tells me, "Come, Legate. There's much to do.".

I follow her down the hall, my squire at my heels. "My men will soon come, but in the meantime. Care for some food?". Maven asks me as we walk down the halls. When I grunt in response she leads me upstairs and out onto a balcony. A table is set for breakfast with ham, cheese, and eggs. "Laila was about to break her fast when the savages attacked the docks. I must say, I never thought the revered Legate Rikke would allow her men to rape and murder.". I refuse to scream at Maven and calmly tell her, "I didn't know they would, and they'll be punished to the severest extent.". My squire licks her jaws and stares longingly at the ham. Maven notices, smiles, and flicks some meat on the floor. My squire curls her lips at Maven, obviously human enough to take offense. "Your hound doesn't seem very well trained. Is this your infamous squire I've heard so much about?".

"Yes.". I tell her, but must have answered wrongly because Maven's eyes dance with glee. She leans forward and asks, "Is it true she fell in love with the leader of the savages? And, you force yourself upon her every night?". She leans back and tells me, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.". I hold in my snarl and tell her, "No. The savage tricked her into marrying her. And, I wouldn't have to _force _her to bed me. I'm certain she'd be more than willing.". I realize what I've said too late, Maven's wearing a shit-eating grin and my squire's tucked her tail between her legs. I wanted so badly to upset Maven that I didn't realize what I was saying, and now there will be rumors of the savage's wife cheating on her. Damn.

A noise from downstairs catches Maven's attention. "My men are here, I'm afraid I must leave you. Goodbye Legate.". She rises, but stops to look at my squire. "Goodbye. Pooch.". Before I can react, she reaches out and ruffles my squire's fur like one would a dog. When she's gone I pat my squire on the shoulder and tell her, "I'm sorry.". My squire rubs her head against my thigh, and I take that as an accepted apology. As I bite into my egg my squire leans over and begins gnawing on the ham. As I stroke her fur and look over the city I can't help thinking, _What now?_


End file.
